


Constant

by Lebellefille



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: 1910s, 1920s, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Class Differences, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prejudice, Rich girls don't marry poor boys., Seperation, Sex, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lebellefille/pseuds/Lebellefille
Summary: Since France, Thomas no longer cared for a simple life. Change was necessary for his business to grow as stagnation would be a pitfall in these changing times. But for all his acceptance of change, Ms. Rochester's introduction into his life was not a change he wanted. Polly's words were, "Love is constant it doesn't leave 'cause you tell it to, life's hard that way." Slow Burn.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue

This show and the characters in it belong to Steve Knight. The only thing I own is Adele and any other OC's that are in it. I was inspired by Call the Midwife and Crimson field. But I specifically chose a midwife and not a teacher like I originally intended because that is what I study! This prologue only has back story Thomas will be in Chapter one.  
All Italics are thoughts

_Prologue_

**Small Heath, Birmingham**

Lily Shelby was born as the clock struck midnight on March 3rd, 1897. The church bells of St. Andrews rang through the uncharacteristically warm spring air as Elizabeth Shelby gave a final push and the sound of silence ensued.  
Elizabeth's anxious mother, Birdie, stood over her body as she breathed heavily from the pain she was enduring, her hands were still fisted between the itchy bed sheets.  
"'Tis a girl." The midwife's Irish lilt sounded in the small room, but what made Birdie pause to stare at her friend was the hint of mournfulness in her voice. Looking back down at her daughter she could see that her daughter was too weary to have heard.  
Birdie hurriedly walked over to the midwife to look over her grandchild looking down at the small thing she felt a coldness cease her heart. She looked at the woman next to her and saw the saddened look on her pudgy features.  
"What's wrong with her?" she said in a hushed tone and begged to Christ that Polly could not hear it.  
Holding the babe close to her breast the midwife whispered, "Get some hot water and rags so we can warm her blood up. If that doesn't help, then… we can only pray and wait." Birdie bit the inside of her mouth viciously and went through the motions of getting the water boiling in the kitchen.  
As she sat in the kitchen and waited for the kettle to whistle, she felt heat roll down her face in the form of hot tears. But it wasn't with mourning that she cried, it was anger. She was angry at that boy, James for getting her daughter in the family way, there was anger at Pol for being so naive, and she was angry at the babe that lay small and blue in her friend's arms because of the pain it would cause her daughter. She knew it was unjustified though because after all of her anger passed it was sadness that took over her heart. She had known the pain of losing a babe before and it was something she was wretched to know that it may be a feeling Pol would soon know.  
After pouring the water in a basin and getting old but mostly clean rags, she moved her way back into the bedroom. She was however intercepted by the person she least wanted to see, Arthur Sr. It was not that she disliked her son, it was the things he did that made her feel as though she had failed as a mother. He did not deserve his saint wife or their children. He stood towering over her but with some reserve that she had rarely ever seen in him anymore. He had turned into a drunk and a whoring gambler just as his father had. She only wished his wife would tame his devilish ways, but it seems nothing would, not even having his boys and baby Ada.  
"What is it?" he said in a rather measured tone that told her that he'd had only a chaser at most.  
She breathed off a huff, "After ignoring us for the past 7 months I'm surprised you have the backbone to show your face here again after what you said to your sister. What do you want?"  
He clicked his jaw and locked it in aggravation, "I just want to offer my hand in reconciliation… toward you and Pollyanna." With that he shook his head to the bedroom door.  
Birdie did not know what to make of her son's change of heart, she wanted to believe him, but she was weary all the same from experience. She played along reluctantly.  
"It's a girl but she's in a bad way… we don't know if she'll live through the night." Looking to the door warily she made to move to it, but her son blocked her again.  
"You must know ma', it would be best if it died, instead of living as a Gypsy girl's bastard."  
Rage burst through Birdie and if it hadn't been for the basin in her hands, she would have slapped her son "Bite your tongue boy! And you'll not even touch that babe. Elizabeth loves her, and you won't do notin' to her do ya' hear me?"  
His frustration seemed to have reached a boiling point as well and he pointed his finger in her face yelling, "You know damned well she'll have no future if she doesn't give it up! She can only go to the workhouses because I'll not put a single farthing to her or her bastard-!"  
Birdie quickly went out of the way and with the bowl in one hand and the towels on her drooped shoulders, she went into the bedroom. She quickly closed and locked the door from her son's rant in hopes that Polly would not hear his voice and be distressed in her fragile state.  
The midwife looked relieved at seeing her friend and they both took to wiping the young babe of blood and after birth fluids. Birdie was quickly feeling despair that their efforts to turn her pale skin into a healthy pink was for not. She was so small but that was to be expected with her being born early. While they were in their task, she heard some rustling of sheets and dreaded what was to come.  
Turning, she saw her child raise up from the bed weakly and ran to help her in her efforts. "Careful love. Your still weak-  
"Where's my baby?" Polly's voice was surprisingly strong in the small room and Birdie took to rubbing her back in circular strokes, but Polly would not be distracted. Her voice was shaky now from fear as she looked at her mother all her exhaustion being replaced by fear, "Mum?" She looked over to the midwife that was now holding her the young babe that was now dry and swaddled in a knitted blanket that Polly had made months before.  
"Why isn't she crying?" Polly's chest was now heaving with unchecked sobs as she held out for her babe whose eyes were closed to the world.  
Th midwife, saved Birdie from speaking with the sound of her posh voice, "The babe tis' small as both my hands put together, and her face is pale. You don't want to see her, love." Polly stopped trying to hold back her emotions as a loud and broken gasp of a sob wretched its way out her soul.  
"Oh God! Please, not my girl." She reached further beckoning the midwife to give her child to her.  
Birdie was worried it would only hurt her more but with such a simple request, she could not deny her such a thing. She nodded her head towards the midwife and she approached with the small bundle, delicately giving her to her mother. With a teary smile she took her baby, holding her close to her chest, and pulled back the blanket to see her small face and the faint tuff of golden hair. "Hello, dear Lily. You know me don't you, you've been hearing nothing but my voice for the last eight months. We were expecting you a bit later, but I suppose you got eager to meet me, hmm?" Polly's sobs only increased greatly as she talked more. She quieted her be stand with all her heart and soul she silently prayed to God that she would give some answer, that there would be some sign that there was no need to bury her sweet face under the earth.  
Birdie looked at the child's face and startled when she thought she saw a twitch behind her closed eye lids. She looked to Polly's face; her eyes were closed with a crinkle at the corners as she concentrated. Her eyes caught another movement and she quickly caught sight of Lily's hand clenching and unclenching.  
Surprised, Birdie exclaimed, "Elizabeth! She's moving!" Her eyes snapped open with hesitant hopefulness. She waited silently with baited breath and a quick beating heart. And before her very eyes the delicate babe, Lily, opened her eyes and looked at up at the face of her mother. Polly choked on her tears and looked back and forth between her mother and the wide-eyed babe. Birdie looked the happiest she had been since the day Pol had been born as she looked at the sweet and quiet child before them.  
"Oh, thank you, God." The midwife proclaimed relievedly. She rushed over to take the baby from the mother's arms. "I have to check that her heart rate and breathing is well, dear."  
Pol looked once more at the baby and reluctantly gave her over to the woman who had once delivered her. The babe made a gurgling sound of protest at the sudden movement of being placed in another's arms. "Oh, don't you worry, love. You'll be back in mother's arms before long."  
-P.B.-  
A few weeks had gone by and both Polly and the baby were inseparable. She would allow no one else to hold her sweet Lily for the first week after her birth, it was always with slight reluctance when her sister in law came to visit her with the boys and Ada. Both herself and Elsie would sit by the crackling fire in the kitchen and watch all of the children take turns holding and playing with the baby. And by children it was only Arthur Jr. and Thomas that did those things.  
"Be gentle." Both Polly and Elsie stressed at the same time as Arthur took to throwing her lightly in the air before catching her.  
"Let Thomas hold her, Arthur." Elsie nodded at her eldest coaxingly with a smile.  
And with that Arthur held her out to a six-year-old Thomas. Polly was thankful that he seemed more considerate of Lilly and only took to gently stroking her chubby face as she giggled at his ministrations and mimicked his action.  
Polly had never felt happier in her life and though others in the ton took to calling her a whore and her sweet babe a bastard she shunned them all in return without a care. And while it was hard to manage such a large family on little money, she swore to herself that she would do never let anything come between her and Lily's safety. And for a while nothing did.  
On the morning of June 28th of the same year Polly woke up to the sound of silence and though for a young mother it should have been a blessing it only filled her with anxiety. Lily had woken her up with the sound of her gurgling every day since her birth without fail. Polly raised herself from the bed and leaned over to the crib in her room and upon seeing nothing she let out a banshee scream that woke the house who held almost all members of the Shelby family except Arthur Sr.  
-P.B.-  
**Starts 3 months before S1 episode 1 (Wednesday November 6th ,1918)**

  
**Small Heath, Birmingham**  
The smog circling around the air was choking to say the least. A slight figure could be seen in an open horse drawn carriage, it moved along the narrow street slowly and wobbled on the uneven cobblestone road. Adelaide looked around at her new home with a bit of anxiety at the prospect of living in such a place riddled with squalor and pollution. She had never seen such a depression since being in Martinique Hospital in France. The parts of England she had been privy to were a far cry from what lay before her eyes.  
She griped the side of the slightly torn leather seat as her trepidation built. Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt however as she heard the driver's voice.  
"Miss… are you sure you're in the right place." The middle-aged man said hesitantly, briefly looking over at her delicate dress and kind face. She wore a white dress that reached slightly above her ankles. Her neck line was modest, and her gloves were the same white lace as her dress with black bows on each cuff. She held a parasol delicately in her hands as she thought the smoky weather might have indicated rain instead of pollution. She looked like a vision come to life. Her up-styled curls framed her face with strands hanging beside her swan like neck and narrow shoulders in all their golden glory. Doe eyes stared at the man in front of her questioningly, her long soft lashes blinking softly over her cheek. Her fingers twiddled a bit nervously at the plain gold ring on a chain around her neck. Thinking she hadn't heard he asked again, "You s'posed to be here Miss?"  
She smiled briefly, her teeth not showing, and said teasingly, "I do hope you say that from concern and not scorn."  
He quickly averted his eyes looking down almost bashfully at the road ahead. "I meant it kindly miss, really I did."  
She wanted to laugh for a moment before she schooled herself into just smiling ruefully. "I know sir, I was merely joking though rather poorly, I suppose. But, to answer your question, I am indeed in the right place, though thank you for your concern." She smiled kindly and proceeded to look back out to her new home.  
-P.B.-  
"I'll be fine here" Adelaide said as she briefly looked upon the building she had arrived at with apprehension in her eyes. The convent front was long and lined half a street long. It had a stately look to it compared to many of the building's Adele had seen in Small Heath, with it it's seven dormers lining the roof it was quite a nice compared to its surrounding. It could, however, not be fully clean, as the area's smog made the brown bricks look black and the glass looked so smudged that the only thing that could be seen inside was the faint flickering of lights in some areas of the building. Leading up to the convent was a short walkway with a miniscule patch of grass in the front. A sign stood out front and read: Caregiver House.  
The carriage came to a steady stop and she exited gracefully onto the ground. Turning around she quietly asked, "How much would the ride be sir?"  
He looked at her up and down once with a bit of fatherly worry in his eyes more and said, "From the docks to here I'd say… 2 shillings miss."  
She gave him the money from her purse and wished him a good day as he rode off all the while shaking his head.  
Walking up to the door she was unexpectedly ambushed by her past and now present colleague Sister Eleanor. Adele smiled upon seeing her old Matron and friend, with one hand on her luggage she greeted Eleanor and embraced her with one arm. Eleanor's habit bumped against her nose before she settled comfortably into the silver haired woman's embrace.  
When Sister Eleanor pulled back to look at her face, she patted the young girl's cheek, "I'm so glad you took me up on this I've been quite lost without my protégé and helping hand." The familiar ruefulness was as ever evident as it was in the past. She was glad that some things did not change.  
"Your protégé has missed being a helping hand. I'm glad to be here. Are the other midwives inside?"  
With an affirmative nod of the head Sister Eleanor stepped aside and walked up the steps and into Caregiver House with Adele.  
After her introduction with her other colleagues she gathered her case of medical supplies and took Sister Eleanor aside to explain that room and board would not be necessary.  
"What do you mean you won't be staying here? It is more advantageous than to commute and you won't be charged for it either."  
The rehearsed excuse came out in an almost flippant tone. "I have trouble sleeping some nights and I would hate to inconvenience you with me being up at all hours. I thought it more considerate this way. And besides I've spent the last few years bunked with other women; I would like some peace when I am not on the clock." She joked at the end but was avoiding her friend's gaze by arranging her gloves back on in careful was so as not to tear the delicate lace.  
Sister Eleanor sighed and though she was not convinced she decided not meddle at the moment. As she disliked doing so, though not really, if she was honest to herself.  
Adele continued, "In any case I already have an arrangement to rent a flat above a bar. My proprietor said it was not far from here, he called the "The Garrison", I think."  
Sister Eleanor stiffened slightly and said in tight voice, "I do not believe your proprietor did you justice in selecting a bar of all places for you to live. And that one especially."  
"And why is this one so devious in your eyes?" She joked as she took up her parasol and both suitcase and medical case.  
"The gentleman the owns the building is named Harry, he is who we get alcohol from to sterilized some of the glass equipment, as his priced are cheaper than a vendor. I have no issue with him but it is the men that are associated with his establishment that are… troublesome. There are four brothers though the little one is of no consequence to you. Though I will say that he is a sweet boy. However, the other three brother control much in this city and I advise you as a friend in this moment to take care of avoiding them if you can. Take some time to think over your lodgings if it is not suitable then always know there is a room here for you."  
"Eleanor I'm half tempted to think you just conceived these villains in an attempt to keep me here." Eleanor chuckled, a rare thing, as Adele carried on and backed out of the front door. "You know me Eleanor I'm quite determined once I set my mind on something and I shall live independently for a little while at least. As you should remember, adventure is my one weakness."  
-P.B.-  
After a short walk she found the old brick building. Once she saw the large sign out front, she hesitantly entered the vestibule and knocked on the entry door unsure if it was opened or not. After a few seconds it opened to her and she was greeted with a tall and slender man that looked down on her questioningly. His face like his frame was narrow with his eyes close to each other and his nose long and narrow with the tip looking a bit bulbous. His eyes were drooping as though he was sad, and she realized it was just that they tilted down at the corners oddly.  
"You lost?" he said quite shortly but with a softness in his eyes.  
"No sir. I'm Adelaide Rochester, the lady you met over the phone. I sent my proprietor, Mr. Callaway to see the apartment and drop off my things. It's quite lovely to meet you." Adelaide said chirpily with a brightness in her eyes and a soft tone in her musical voice. She extended her hand to shake his own.  
"Oh! I'm sorry love- I mean Miss Rochester. I didn't remember it was today you was comin' I'm so sorry please come in." He said stepping aside so she could come in. Adelaide waved off his apologies as unnecessary and they went upstairs. Harry in front while Adelaide was in tow right behind his person.  
He went to the door and unlocked it with a set of keys he pulled out of his pocket. He moved to the side as she entered.  
The place was a sight.  
Dust floated in the air like fairies, the windows had grime on them that made it near impossible for light to come in. Adelaide let Harry come in front of her to strike a match and light a gas lamp and she could tell from his face he almost regretted doing so as the faded light blue flowers of the wallpaper was scratched with some patches missing where furniture may have scrapped against it once. The entry way of the flat showed off high ceiling and a tall archway which led to a living area. To the right there was a fireplace that was blocked off at one point and now was only good for collecting dust on either side of it there were built in book shelve which she found slightly surprising given that the previous occupant was a lady of the night. To the left there was a doorway that led to a kitchen which she was questing whether a table of any size could fit with chairs. Going back to the living room there was another door to the bedroom which had what was once a dark crimson wallpaper with golden flowers stretching out from the base of the wooden chair rail.  
"It's… it's fine, with some time and care I'm sure it can be better." She tried to be honest but not shame Mr. Fenton any further.  
Harry looked a bit shameful as he stared at the ground. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to clean Miss, if your father'll be staying here soon, I can get right on it now- "he started but was interrupted by the little lady.  
Adelaide gave a light laugh a bit as she exclaimed, "My father will not be staying here, sir. She looked around the room and continued, "I'll be living by myself so I'll only need the bare necessities which you already have here. They only need a good cleaning. And a bit of decoration, I'm sure I can manage."  
Harry looked a bit uncomfortable at the admission, "You'll be livin' here by yourself? Miss you do know that you'll be livin' right above a bar that can get rowdy with the right crowd. I just don't feel right letting a woman stay here by herself. After I lock up shop it'll just be you 'ere and not even the police like to be here at night." Harry was thinking about the drunks stumbling in and seeing a pretty girl all on her lonesome and getting filthy ideas about her. The Shelby boys were another scarier issue entirely, especially Arthur and John nowadays. Tommy was pretty stony for the most part these days, so he wouldn't look twice at her most likely.  
Adelaide shook her head as though shaking off what he was saying and planted a firm look squarely on his face, "Well, thank you for the concern but I'm sure all will be well, God willing. If push comes to shove, I assure you I am capable of handling it on my own." It was a bluff as all she had on her person to protect herself was small gun with no bullets that her father gave to her as a reassurance to himself. But, Mr. Fenton surely did not know that.  
Harry looked unsure still. He knew he wasn't just speaking nonsense. His daughter had trouble with the drunks herself and she had the spirit and moxie of her mother tenfold. This one looked like a strong wind could blow over her small frame. She looked like one of them fancy porcelain dolls his daughter never liked. You couldn't touch 'em let alone have a child play with 'em, they were just pretty and meant to me adored from the window sill. People like him and, in this God, forsaken hell called Small Heath could only do just that. The drunks would break this doll and he was damned sure of it.  
On the flip side, however, Harry wasn't sure where she'd end up if he kicked her out and the thought sickened as to what could happen. There were no honest men left in this damned city. This might be the only place that had some kind of relative safety as he was under the Blinder's protection and if she was livin' here then maybe it applied to her as well. Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose harshly, resigned in his decision.  
"Alright, you can stay here long as you want so long as you pay the rent. Deal?"  
"Deal. How much will you charge for rent, sir?"  
"Well 6 shillings a month would be great. "  
"Agreed, sir."  
"You know you can just call me Harry you know. No formalities needed miss."  
Adelaide got out of her head and smiled up brightly "Of course, I apologize Harry. And you can call me Adelaide or Adele."  
"No need to apologize, Adele." Harry smiled at her warmly and proceeded to leave her to clean her new home.  
She took an old wet rag she found in the kitchen section and wet it thoroughly. She thanked God that the water was not a distasteful color because of rust. She cleaned the dirt and grime from the four broad windows in the flat and finally opened them up, sighing in relief as some well needed fresh air wafted through the room. Dusting and moping the floors were next, then scrubbing the counter space and stove. She looked into the ice box and nearly gagged at the stench it held inside. She immediately closed it and decided a new ice box may be in order all together. She finally scrubbed the copper tub that was in a separate corner with the loo and wash basin in the bedroom. When everything was cleaned, she took out the linens she took from her home in Dorset and put them on the mattress, it was well after a decent hour to go to sleep.  
The mattress squeaked slightly under her bare weight and Adelaide flinched at the reason for why it was so worn. With a prayer on her lips she fell under sleeps welcomed charms.  
Some of the things Adelaide did miss while in France was the freshly ironed dresses that awaited her every morning, and the smell of old Babs that permeating bedroom. She always had the smell of moth balls and river water around her. Babs was a nurse maid to her and her mother, Daphne, and Bab's mother was nurse maid to Daphne's mother and grandmother and great-grandmother. She thought of Babs often when she dressed, she was the one that helped her with it so often as a child.  
Her dress was kept to one of the simplest ones she had as it was quite clear to see that she stood out a bit yesterday. She wore an ankle-length light-yellow dress with a black sash around her waist. The neckline was rather modest as it reached up her neck covering it completely. The sleeves were capped off however on her forearms.  
Sighing as she now realized she had nothing to eat she went downstairs to the bar and greeted Harry who was just restocking his drinks and taking inventory. He looked up and smiled at Adelaide.  
"Hello Adele, how are ya?"  
"Good morning Harry. I'm quite well, thank you for asking. How are you, dear?"  
"I'm quite fine. Just stocking up on some drinks. Need anything?"  
"I wanted to ask you where the market is. I have quite a bit of grocery shopping needed to be done."  
"Yeah, you just go to Pickford lane and there's a restaurant there called "Travelli Café", there's a big sign out front, can't miss it. Just careful there it's owned by the Changrettas."  
At seeing Adele's lost stare and one arched brow, he elaborated. "They're an old Italian gang. Them and the Blinders 'ave been in a few fights but things 'ave cooled off now, still, be careful. Alright? Groceries are right next door to the place."  
An old Italian gang and the "Blinders" have fight's periodically, but between sessions of selling tea at Café's or troubling quiet bar owners. She felt like between Sister Eleanor and Harry she had truly stepped into a city of villains and the though was so silly and childish she laughed to herself. Though she wanted to ask for more details she decided against it as she was nearly intrigued enough especially since she hungry. After getting her directions she set off.


	2. Simplicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simplicity was her one true weakness.

All Italics are thoughts

I’m so happy that this story had gotten some positive feedback. And thank to everyone that’s reviewed, followed, or liked it. Please do review and give feedback especially if it’s something you think should be changed or tweaked. Constructive criticism is great and I’m not fragile, thankfully. The thing I find most challenging so far is the dialogue of the show’s characters. I don’t want any character to be OCC and hopefully I achieved that in this chapter.

I own nothing. This show and the characters in it belong to Steve Knight. The only thing I own is Adele and any other OC's that are in it.

**Simplicity**

Having been in a resident of Small Heath for a week and a half, Adele found a rhythm to her days that was satisfying in its mundanity. The simplicities that one takes for granted until they are taken, were always her one true weakness. She could never help but to stop and admire how the sun broke through clouds to let a gold stream hit the mirror of her vanity table and paint a rainbow’s beam across the hand which rested upon that table. That same hand continued to stroke the empty paper that lay neatly in front of it. Periodically Adele would pick up the paper as if to read its nothingness and then drop it back on the table with both irritability and resignation.

The simplicities in life such as that was how Adele managed to procrastinate enough so that it had been 20 minutes since she sat down to write to her family. It was not her immediate family she had trouble forming words to, as that duty was done the envelope meant for her mother and father was in the top drawer of her vanity table ready to be mailed. She had written to assure them that she was comfortable now in her newly furnished flat. Her father had been appalled t the condition she had found it in and told her she would either have to move to a place that he saw as acceptable or accept some help in furnishing her home. She picked the less humiliating option. No, it was to her cousin and friend Tomás whom this particular letter was meant to address. Thinking of him brought about memories of how they had left each other, how she had left him with no sufficient answer to his question. It also brought about memories of a childhood friend she had lost to the war.

Her old home in Dorset was always quiet as they only lived around two other manors with a village to connect them. One manor was the home of her friend Marjorie Pennyworth, and her other siblings, and the other was the home of the Marquis Tomás Falaise, who was an only child. The three of them had grown up quite close though Marjorie was the silliest flirt who ever lived, Tomás was awkward, and Adele was, before the war, quite gregarious though childish. Marjorie and Adele knew each other from a child as their mothers were friends and neighbors to each other. Though Adele was not born a lady as her mother said she was still considered such because of having been raised as one since she was a babe. Marjorie though born to titles and privileges; her family was not as wealthy as them in material gain. Tomás was however, of a higher pedigree to both of them combined. As Marjorie had always said, he was and is “absolutely disgustingly rich with wealth that would put any Rockefeller or Carnegie to shame and a title to match.” Adele rolled her eyes at remembering her old friend’s ever recurring words. _She always had such a refined and delicate way of going about things._ Though Adele smiled slightly at the memory she felt an ache in her chest. She straightened her back as though someone was watching and went back to her letter.

It was not for lack of affection that she struggled for words, or perhaps it was. Tomas would think so and perhaps he was right to an extent. In the early fall of that year he had made a proposal to her for her hand in marriage. Though it may have been short sighted, as Marjorie had always let her know that he held tender feelings for her, she was overcome with shock at the intensity of his proposal. She left him with a denial of her feelings being anything romantic of that she was sure of as she had felt true romance during the war with Lieutenant Colonel Wilks… _I shan’t think of that today._ In the end Tomás had wrenched from her a promise to at least consider his suite. With an unconscious twirling of the ring around her neck, determination and that last thought ruminating in her head Adele bent over the paper and wrote.

_\--P.B.—_

In the younger years of both the war and Adele’s life she started her training as a nurse and not a voluntary aide, in a church in France. It was older than the convent she now worked with its history painted in the half faded-half destroyed murals on its walls and ceilings. In memory’s hindsight she wished she’ taken any little moment to decipher what they depicted. But, with panic ensuing at every new recruit’s burned, wounded, and broken bodies… she did not take in that bit of simplicity. There were nights when she had over 60 patients to care for with more that would come in truck loads after a stale mate had broken. That was why even ladies of her and Marjorie’s standing were called upon to help in the war effort, it was not without arguments from both their parents though. She wished so much she had let her parents win that fight; Marjorie’s fate would have been different.

These thoughts kept are what kept her from sleeping some nights. The clock on her bed stand would tick by and she would look at the pattern of water mark stains on the ceiling. If she had not fallen asleep by 11 p.m. then she would play the piano that was in the living room to the right of her bedroom door. It was only somber songs she played, songs that had ghosts and memories in them. They sang of days past in the summer of her innocence. These nocturnal habits are what led her to her to the comfort of church. Adele slowly approached the building Harry had told her of, St. Andrew Catholic Church. As she entered the rather grand gothic structure, she took her sheer veil out of her purse, which also held her small bible, and wrapped it over her head covering her hair in the shimmering white-gold mesh. She thought it went well with yellow dress, it had a white collar with black trimming on the sleeves. Then taking her right hand she crossed herself and began her journey down the long isle towards the altar.

While the outside of said church was gothic and imposing with tall windows lining the structure, the inside was rather welcoming and bright to Adele. The stone lining every wall was a spotless beige and kept the room very cool. Though the inherent emptiness in the room also helped keep the temperature down. The floors reminded her of what she believed Spanish or Moroccan tiles looked like it was a semblance of different and eccentric patterns in an overall diamond shape. The colors spoke of warmth to Adele as they were brown and golden like the desert under the gleaming sun. As per tradition heavy wooden benches, that were always uncomfortable to Adele, lined the rows that faced the alter.

On that Sunday which hast past she was surprised that it was devoid of most people of this side of the city. It was only a few elderly men and women that populated it along with the very young who had been left in the care of grandparents. The priest who gave the sermon was a small and pale fellow. His eyes were small and pale grey with a Romanesque feature which made him appear reptilian-like in the church’s bright sunlight. His sermon itself was of little coherence to her as she found his manner of speech disjointed with many deep breaths were needed to be taken in just to finish one sentence. She much preferred Father Monty who was also a trusted family friend in Dorset, he had after all been in contact with Sister Eleanor in order to secure her position at Caregiver House.

After the service had ended, she reached her destination at the front of the altar she kneeled and crossed herself before approaching the humble metal candle holding rack. It had clearly been used often as candle wax was mounted around the placement holes. Slowly Adele did the same routine that she practiced in her old church, in Dorset, of taking the candles from her purse and lighting each one while saying prayers for the men who died in the war. Her prayers were for both men she did know and the ones listed on the plaque next to her, which she had come to know from foreboding priest, whom were men known to Small Heath.

That had been the previous Sunday, on this day she selected to go to church earlier to light the candles so as to say her prayers in peace without anyone around. This was a poor decision however, as when she had finished lighting the candle and sat on the pew with her Bible in her hands, she found that the quiet may have been a bit too disconcerting. It was not a peaceful quiet, as echoes of footsteps behind walls sounded instead of the whisper of sea waves, as was the case in the sea side village her old church resided in. With a likeliness of a very poor service from a nervous looking priest to follow she deduced that this Sunday may be very much so like the one prior. However, Adele was wrong on that account she mused, as she heard the side door of the church open and to her relief, she was not completely alone in the church anymore. A rather, stately woman garbed in black, who was not in attendance that Sunday past, came in and crossed herself, then with her head held high and proudly marched toward the metal racks. She came to a screeching halt as she saw the rack filled, along with all other spare candle holders, with the shimmering light of lit candles. Adele quickly looked down at her hands before the woman turned her head searchingly to the pews. Adele stared interestingly at the Bible’s scripture that she had it opened to, as she did not want to appear a busy body.

As the morning progressed the service commenced and went by at crawling pace. Her mind came back to the present as the pastor blessed them and led himself to the back rooms of the church. As she walked, purse in hand, to the front doors she was very aware of the woman from earlier looking at her. She could not turn her head though as the thought of making it known that she was being watch caused a light blush to spread to her cheeks. Adele always hated being stared at, ever since she was a child. Like when she was asked to reiterate what a tutor had said in front of her brothers to prove that she was not listening as she would indeed day dream and not listening.

The woman’s voice then sounded out to Adele, “Do I know you?” her low voice sounded out clearly in the church. It was a tactic; this Adele knew because she had used it time and again in society. Whenever someone was new it did well to feign innocent confusion instead outright meddlesomeness. A small smile graced her face as she realized she was not the busy body in this after all.

Adele turned and said in light voice. “No,” she drawled it out slightly, “As a matter of fact I’ve just moved here. I only arrived nearly two weeks ago.” The lady in front of her had eyes that were round like Adele’s but there was a fierceness to them. They were hard and all seeing, they drove talons onto Adele’s face forcing her not to look away and to always speak truthfully. But that did not mean she had to say everything about herself especially to this stranger.

The woman leaned back further into the side of the bench and rested her elbow upon the top, holding her head above her fingers that were rubbing her chin in thought. After a brief moment of silence, she pointed her index finger to the candles. “I take you’re the one that lit them? Why?”

Adele glanced briefly at the candles and turned her eyes back towards the woman. This she was fine with answering fully as it was done with good intention, “To show my respect for the men that died doing what I couldn’t do. Even if I didn’t know them, I understand… to an extent, what they saw and what they felt. I’m so sorry that my candles took up all the space.” That was truly a misjudgment and she looked away, feeling guilty at the inconsiderate thing she had done in her eyes. “Was there someone that you lost, that wasn’t on the list?”

The woman took only a moment to shake her head and scoff slightly, to reassure the girl that looked genuinely guilty. “No, they’re Alive. With all their limbs in place and a few scars between them.” She reached into her purse for a cigarette and Adele noticed the she quickly put it back in her bag. Apparently, she remembered where they were.

Though the woman’s air made Adele stand up straighter, she still found this conversation to be a favorable occurrence because for the last week as she had settled into the clinic or was making house calls, the people of Small Heath seemed to avidly avoid her presence. The patients that she had taken care of only ever answered in short and curt words even when she tried actively to engage in conversations about the baby’s room and preparations for delivery. This fact truly showed when Sister Eleanor accompanied her as they spoke to her in a comfortable manner, though brash and crude at time, and Adele wished to be a part of… something else. That was why she came here after all; it was not because she needed work but it was for a need of escape from the construct, she had built round herself. She had built a prison’s foundation of memories in every blade of grass that was trampled and in every grain of and that was on the beach she and Marjorie used to bath in. The walls were made of rings that hung on a cold metal chain around her neck. It was simply sadness that she wanted to outrun. And she knew no better way of outrunning sadness than with new memories and friends.

This little sentiment was washed away quickly by the woman’s next question. Looking back into Adele’s brown eyes she inquired, “That’s a lovely ring around your neck” The off handed comment was said with all the gaiety of asking about the weather, she took Alice off guard again. “There’s two more candles up there than there are names on the board. They were yours?”

Adele’s mother, Daphne, always fondly told her that she was never one to miss details. This was apparently the same case with the woman in black. In a tone she knew had turned cold she said, “With respect Miss-”

“Polly Shelby.”

“Mss. Shelby, everyone has a tale of woe especially in England and most certainly in this city. I have no need to air mine, but thank you for your concern.” She added that last part in quickly as she reminded herself of her upbringing.

The superior look that came upon the woman’s face and the slight raise of one brow spoke to the fact that she was not used to being spoken to in such disregard, “My concern, has to do with why a posh girl like you step foot into this city and stay. You come here Ms. Rochester, with no prior history, no connections to this place, and set yourself up in a flat above a bar.” She made tsk sound, “The proprietor that was sent rang like a church bell with some whiskey in him.” She finished speaking with a slight smile on her lips which did not meet her narrowed eyes.

Adele cocked a brow at the use of her family name and found this whole situation to just be silly as she single woman, could make such a stir when all she wanted was some peace. With a sigh she said, “There was no need to have him sauced to get information about. I believe it’s customary to greet neighbors and allow a proper amount of time to pass before I give the story of my life.”

“It’s not the story of your life that I want only why you’re here.”

“But why must I tell you?” She did not want to remain her; this was becoming or is now a confrontation and she hated those.

“Because I’ve made it ‘my concern’ to know everyone who so much as pisses in the gutters.”

Any politeness which was in their conversation was now certainly on hold. Adele decided to concede and let this conversation be done.

“I am here as a mid-wife.”

“Don’t smart with we, I had asked ‘why’ not what you do.

“Sister Eleanor recommended I come here after we served together as military nurses. She was and is my Matron; she thought that doing God’s work may help take my mind away from, France.” This was as much as she was willing to say on the topic and Ms. Shelby was satisfied with that.

That came as a surprise to Polly but she kept the same superior look on her face, she had not heard the name Sister Eleanor since... “Till next Sunday, Ms. Rochester.”

 _Next_ , Adele thought with dread.

\--P.B.--

Walking out the church and through the now familiar streets, Adelaide saw that it was a lot more crowded than last Sunday as the weather was more favorable. She was not bothered at all by this as it was a nice residential street considering the city it was in, she loved the noise of children playing and wives gossiping. She was however a bit disgruntled, as the road was unpaved and laddered with mud and dirt instead of cobblestone in this particular area. In short, her white shoes would need a good scrubbing upon returning home, she decided while looking at her shoes.

Adelaide heard hooves meet muck and looked in front of herself just in time to get out of the way of a beautiful black horse, she saw his rider was a man in a flat cap and black suit. The horses head towered over which startled her even more as she was not a short woman. The horse neighed, and the man patted the side of its neck settling it to a quiet neigh and huff. Whatever words or calming tones he made to the horse was lost to the sound of women callout to others in the street and children’s footsteps hitting the ground. The horse had however, calmed upon the rider’s word’s and stopped shifting from hoof to hoof in an antsy manner. Upon her still standing there like a dumb ridden fool he looked at her with a disgruntles gaze. Adelaide, could not see his face fully as the cap had casted a shadow over his feature, but his eyes did stand out amongst the shadow.

People passed around them, men and women alike bidding a ‘Good day’ and ‘How do you do, Mr. Shelby?’ while tipping their hats to him.

_Mr. Shelby? Who is Ms. Shelby to him?_

All the while he said nothing and only looked at her a cold disdain for her person. Her voice seemed to escape her as she had it in her mind to apologize to him, but nothing would come from her barely opened pink lips.

Though he did not truly care he wondered who she was as he knew a girl with a face like that would not go unnoticed if she lived in Small Heath for any amount of time. She said nothing to him and he in turn took the look in her eyes as fear as he was so used to people staring at him in such a way. He decided to put her out of her misery.

“If you ever see me approaching you do as they do,” he nodded a gesture to a man who tipped his hat to him and kept walking, “and move out my way.” And with that he moved around her and left around a corner. His ungentlemanly attitude and words left her with one word on her breath. “Shelbys.” _Two Shelbys. Only I would meet two in one day._

After the disruption Adelaide recovered and after stating in her mind how rude and abrupt, he was she went with her walk. Which ended with her sprawled out in the mud as she tripped over a ball that kicked fiercely in her direction. She managed to break her fall by landing on her hands and knees but the mud had surely ruin her gloves and the bottom of her dress. _I need to get home before the sky decides to fall on me next._ She managed to joke with herself as the day was surely testing her ability to remain composed.

As she got up the sound of footsteps running up to her sounded and she thought she heard, “Isaiah, Aunt Pol’s gonna kill us.”

“Us? You’s the one that kicked the ball way out here.” The other voice sounded.

Upon brushing off her dress and stopping once she realized she was only smearing mud from her gloves.

Noticing a young boy’s pale and freckled chubby face, she realized he was quite young probably 9 or 10, he was with a young dark boy his own age. Adelaide smiled at both of them to try and calm their frayed nerves. She asked them for their names and they obliged her.

“Now what are you two playing?” She said as she stooped back down to hand them their ball.

The dark boy, Isaiah, looked down abashedly at the ground, he answered, “We were only playing football Miss.”

The freckled boy, Finn, said right after, “I’m sorry. I tried to kick it and it went sideways. I didn’t mean to ruin your dress Miss.” The young boy Finn thought he she would be upset, but Adelaide grew up with brothers so a boy’s roughness was not something she was unfamiliar with.

“There’s was no harm or intent in it, Finn, I’m fine and this is a secret between the three of us. Neither of you are in any trouble.”

Adelaide adjusted her dress and said, “I’m afraid I have to go, alright?” As she began to walk away, she heard foot trails behind her and saw Finn catch up to where she was.

“Where ya goin’?” Finn asked in his delicate childish voice.

Adele chuckled as she replied, “Home. And where are you two going, hmm?”

“Walkin’ you home. My Polly would be upset if I didn’t.”

“Oh?” Adele said in an attentive way as her… acquaintance’s, _Judge, jury, and executioner’s_ name was mentioned. “Is Polly your mum?” She inquires, quite curious about the woman this boy holds in high esteem.

Finn looked away from Adele and the boy himself stayed quite for a moment. Adele felt a cold breeze upon her neck that always comes about when she should not have said something.

“Me mum’s dead. Pol’s my aunt, she takes care of us.”

Sympathy tugged at her and she decided to continue on this topic with Finn, “‘Us’? Do you have siblings, by chance?”

This seemed to perk him up and she felt relief at seeing his small frame loosen. In a chirpy voice he told her of his three brothers.

“I got Tommy, Arthur, and John.”

“And who’s your favorite?” She asked conspiratorially so as to keep the secret between themselves.

He seemed a bit shy and he looked to the ground and answered, “Tommy… I play pretend with Isaiah and I like to act like I’m him. You know, really tough.”

She thought she may have imagined a blush spreading across his cheek at the admission. She said, “Well,” she started in her breathy tone of voice, “when I was younger, I would sometimes pretend I was my mother. I would put on her dresses and put my hair up and put all of her clips in it. I loved to walk around the house as though I was the Lady in charge.” She finished with a wistful smile on her slightly red lips. The weather frigid and the lack of sun did not help. She looked down at Finn and saw his modest clothing. It was not in any way of poor quality, but it also wasn’t of fine linen that she was used to seeing around the company she kept before France.

“Is your brother Thomas a strong character?”

“He’s the toughest man I ever saw. I once heard that a he saw a man beatin’ on a horse and Thomas stepped in the way and beat the man till he couldn’t get up.” Finn's face took on a proud look as he mentions his brother.

That was not what she had meant by ‘strong character’ but it was of little consequence compared to this bit of tittle tattle. She was appalled at the manner of man that would beat a horse but was also more than a little shocked at the level of violence Finn’s brother seemed capable of when Finn seemed so good-hearted and sweet. The closest her brothers got to showing violence around her was when they all went hunting with mothers permission one year. She was eleven at the time and the trip soon ended when she had fainted at the sight of her father cutting the throat of a rabbit whom he had shot in the leg, for all his saying it was to take away the poor things pain she had refused to speak to him for 2 months and addressed him coldly for another 3 months.

"Well… he must be quite the man to have your admiration.” She came back into the present as her polite nature kicked to not leave the boy wondering if she was listening or not.

They had not taken long with walking back to The Garrison, as her arm stretched out to grab the door knob she said an internal curse when she saw that her purse was not on her anymore. She must have left it in the mud by accident.

Adelaide decided on something quickly, “I have to leave now Finn I dropped my purse back in the street would you like to come and help me find it for something sweet in return. Finn’s eyes lit up like fireworks and he nodded readily. They set off walking back to where her purse was dropped. Isiah was still there in his own world and was slow to notice the company. After finding it safe Adelaide called the two boys over and bent down to their level getting something out of the purse. Both boys had bright smiles as she took out some hard candy. She gave two to Finn and the two to Isaiah saying a warm thanks to both boys. Isiah looked shocked at what he got.

Adelaide then inquired, “What? Have you never had candy before?”

He quietly said “No, me da doesn’t allow sweets.”

Adelaide leaned over, “Well, then this’ll be our secret too then. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your father.” Finn and Isaiah both walked her home as she talked about her job as a nurse this time, she told them goodbye and they ran off to most likely play again.

Adelaide went upstairs to her home atop the Garrison, changed into another yellow dress, this one with a black bow collar, and had pockets on either side of the skirt with buttons down the middle. And started cooking as she was properly famished. Adelaide said a silent thanks that her mother and old Babs, let her learn how to cook from a young age though it was a chore below her breeding.

While eating her simple brunch of corn porridge and biscuits Adelaide could not help but hear the ruckus reverberating through the floorboards.

Finishing up and washing her dishes Adelaide sighed as the noises got louder. She did not know how Harry as kept his place together as he didn’t seem to have any employees. She decided it would not hurt to check as she had nothing more to do for the day Adelaide went down and looked for Harry.

She saw him behind the bar and if the crinkle of his forehead had to say anything he was stressed.

“Hi Harry, would you like some help down here?”

He looked up and the look of relief at hearing her words already told her his answer before he did. She took her place next to him and started to ask the people coming in what they would like. Though it did take some time to get used to bartending with Harry’s help it wasn’t too difficult, and she only had two of her customer’s orders wrong. Her rhythm was tarnished however as a set of hollering ‘gentlemen’ came bum rushing into the bar. While the two were dressed the part in fine clothes and had peaked caps that resembled the man on the black horse from earlier their demeanor could not be farther from calm. All the patrons got scarily quieter but not completely silent. Adelaide went back to her work sighing at the odd behavior being displayed in this town. One of them spotted her and, not so subtlety, nudged the others arm. “The fucks wrong Arthur?” said the one whose arm was nudged. He had a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth.

“I found my future wife, John, that’s what’s fucking right!” Arthur said nodding his head in the direction of the light-haired curvy little thing behind the bar. The light from the windows to the front shone on her casting a golden hue to her features. Her pretty yellow dress looking positively golden. She was tending to the other patrons at the bar while Harry had gone to the back-supply room to check on something.

John’s toothpick nearly fell out his open mouth at the sight of the new face of a woman before him. “Is that who Finn’s been yammering on about all morning? He didn’t do her fuckin’ justice just saying she was pretty.”

“Kid’s too young to know a good thing when he sees it. Let alone what to do with it.” Arthur said lecherously, his gaze not moving from the barmaid who was wiping spilt liquor off the counter. “Well I don’t know‚ ‘bout you but I’m gonna enjoy finding out if it’s the same Miss. Come on,” he stated in a hushed tone. With that Arthur walked up to the bar and like déjà vu for Adelaide the patrons all dispersed to the booths and tables as though their lives depended on it. Leaving the bar empty for both Arthur and his brother who was right behind him.

“ ‘ello beautiful. I’ll have a pint o’ Irish whiskey. So, you new to Small Heath, eh?” Arthur asked his eyes scanning Adelaide from her head to her chest, his eyes taking up occupancy there, “I’d have remembered a pretty face like yours?”

Adelaide smiled politely at the sweet introduction, not completely missing his tone and she intended to keep polite and friendly, lest he thinks her interested in that kind of attention. It was almost comical that in just one day so many new faces would make an acquaintance of her. Hopefully they weren’t more Shelbys though. Arthur reluctantly dragged his eyes back to her warm brown eyes.

“Why hello sir. And yes, I just moved into the upstairs apartment yesterday.” Adelaide said this as she poured out his drink into a glass. As she was about to take the bottle away Arthur touched her bare arm and said “Leave the bottle beautiful.”

Adelaide quickly lessened her grip on the bottle letting it go and while keeping friendly smile she told him “Of course,” in a measured tone. She then took up her rag went back to wiping down the counter making sure to avoid the man’s gaze.

 _Fuck,_ Arthur thought. He thought that complimenting her beauty would appeal to her nature to him but it would not be the case with Ms. Rochester.

John stepped in rolling his eyes at his brother. “My names John by the way and this ugly bloke right next to me is my brother Arthur-

“Hey, fuck off why don’t cha?” Arthur said indignantly.

John carried on like he heard nothing making Adelaide laugh warmly. “I heard you met my other brother, yeah? ‘is name is Finn.”

Adelaide’s eyes widened as their names clicked in her memory. “Oh yes! I met him today with another boy um… Isaiah was his name. They were playing outside in the streets. Your brother was quite the gentleman, he helped me walk home.” Adelaide said in a sweet way remembering the young round-faced lad.

It was Arthur who answered, “Yeah, he told us about that said you was sweet as a peach to ‘im and Isiah. He also said you was a nurse. That true?"

Adelaide nodded and professed, “I just got the position last week-"

A cold breeze swept through the pub as the door opened and closed once again. In walked the man Adelaide had seen on the horse earlier that day. She felt a heat rise in her cheeks at remembering his rude ways. He was of course sporting the same black coat with a black vest and flat cap she saw earlier that day. He walked into an enclosed room to his immediate right.

"Hold that thought love. There's business that needs seeing to." Arthur winked as he and Jon walked away in the same room. She faintly heard John snicker, “Real fuckin’ smooth, Valentino.”

Arthur’s gruff response was, “Fuck off, John boy. Didn’t want her anyway” Johns laughter sounded as the door closed.

Harry came up behind her and said," I think you should go on up now Adelaide I can take it from here."

At Adelaide's questioning stare he continued with a sigh, “Those three Shelbys are the Peaky Blinders. Trust me love you don't want to be caught up in them." Any further warnings were not heard as she though, _Of all the people in Small Heath…of all the people in the world._

Harry's and Eleanor’s warnings rang in her head for the rest of the night. But as sleep took over, she took comfort in the simple beauty of the moonlight peering through her lace curtains and the patterns it made across her pillow. It was after all her one true weakness.

\--P.B.--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for Reading! The church I used was seen in Season 1 Episode 2
> 
> Please review and I HIGHLY recommend that you go to my Pinterest and see the Board labeled “Constant Chapter 1.” I used Pinterest to see magazine from the 1910s and pictures of what inspired Adele’s flat, I also have pictures of characters there that I use for reference. See you soon!


	3. The Way Life Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the way life had to be in Small Heath.

All Italics are thoughts  
I own nothing. This show and the characters in it belong to Steve Knight. The only thing I own is Adele/Lillian and any other OC's that are in it.

**Chapter 2- The Way Life Was**

It would be in vain to deny to herself that Adele was not unaccustomed to the squalor that the people of Small Heath abided in. It had become a part of her week day to go to the convent and either help with patients that were there or to instead make house calls if that was what the Sister Eleanor decided on. There were a great many women who were either carrying or had just delivered babies so there was much work to go around. She had found in her profession that there was a recurrence in the response women had when they found out that they were carrying. The three most common in Small Heath was 'Now how the hell am I s'posed to feed my little 'uns and this one? Others would shrug at being informed that they were expecting again and simply ask when the babe was to come, and lastly there were the women that cursed their husbands for putting them through this again. All these responses were from women who had more than one child already as that was the majority of her cases. Adele did not see women who were primiparas or young girls, this was however to change on her current home visit.

  
A few days after her encounter with the slightly frightening Ms. Shelby, Adele found herself in a place that she felt would be familiar before long given her profession. The red-light district of Small Heath. Though this may not be a very apt or specific description as most of Small Heath she had come to realize would suit that label. The path she took to this particularly decrepit part of the city had a stream of sewage running down the middle of the narrow street. The street or alleyway, as it was around many tall buildings, was congested with women in scantily clad clothes or even their white undergarments being the only that covered their modesty. None looked happy though some put on a smile and called to whatever man, and to Adele's horror, even herself that was around them. They put on leering smiles and yet there was no passion in their faces; behind the rouge and smoke in the air, they were pale like apparitions, likely to blow away into nothingness just as a gust of breeze blew the smoke away from Adele's path.

  
Adele stopped at a sign that mimicked the writing she had from Sister Eleanor's direction.   


**Lottie's Bed n' Breakfast**   
**Good Beds, Large Rooms, n' Good Company**

  
Above that there was a flag with writing which said 'God save the King.' Adele went inside as she was told by Eleanor not to knock as they would likely not answer her call, for anyone who had business in a whore house wouldn't knock. Inside the decorations were surprisingly regal though at his point in time it could not be called 'modern' any longer. The consistency of the walls was of a rouge colored wallpaper and dark wood chair railing. Immediately in front of her there was a broad staircase with a gas light bulb held up by a statue of a naked woman. To her right there was a parlor with the same red wallpaper, to her left she saw another entertaining space except there was a piano in the middle of that room. Though the rooms were not large there was a good bit of furniture which, while not having been shined in a long time, was still sturdy in good condition. However, while the outward appearance was nice Adele saw small details which did not bode well. There were stains on some of the lounges which had either been poorly wiped off or left to crust over. The wallpaper was peeling in some corners and in other places there were patches that were scratched or torn. The small chandelier above her head was missing some crystals while the intricate area rug below her had red stains on it whether it was old wine or fresh blood was something she would like to know. To look for these small details was something the Eleanor had told her to do whenever walking into a patient dwelling. It would give her a hint as to what might impede her in taking care of both herself and her baby. Her inspection was done in all of 10 seconds before she heard footsteps sound above. They were heavy and it shook the chandelier above with two crystals coming off in the process. She ducked away from under it as if it did fall and she was concussed this would be the last place she would wish to be vulnerable.

  
"And who, are you?" The scratchy shriek started Adele though she had prepared herself for someone to appear on the stairs. A heavy-set woman, whose curvaceous figure was obviously flattered by a cinched corset beneath a scandalously tight dress, took to coming down the stairs in controlled manner. Her face, in the gaslight of the stairwell, was symmetrical aside from a beauty mark which Adele could see was penciled in. In her former years she was surely a beauty. However, just like their surroundings there were imperfections in the woman's image. The dim light drew harsh shadows around three line of crow's feet near her eyes and wrinkles of age on her brow and corners of her mouth. Her face was not painted as it was almost the middle of the day and there was not to be any customers at this time. The fabric of the shawl around her was silk that looked exotic in its intricacy and stich work. However, like the wallpaper around them that too had faded with age and the colors were faded.  
"If you're looking for your man then come back in a few hours. Only try not to make a scene in here, I just redecorated." Her dismissive tone led to Adele's rebuttal.

  
"I've come for no man, madam. Only a," at this she took the paper with direction and looked for the name of her patient that day, "Miss Lucy Doe. Is she he-?"

  
"You're a nurse." The madam cut her off as for the first time during their conversation she looked her up and down and noticed the white collared, steel blue dress, and the long white apron that covered it. The only difference between this uniform and the one she had in the military was that there was no armband with a red cross on it. Adele's hair was mostly covered neatly from view with a cotton kerchief, only a few blonde curls escaped in the front. Eleanor had said she selected the uniform to remind people of their patriotism. Adele on the other hand thought it was more likely to reopen wounds best left alone. "I don't call for nurses I have my own people that take care of my girls… Why did Lucy call for you?" Her eyes narrowed and beneath the mock civility of her words there was an undertone that felt like ice running up Adele's spine. As Adele opened her mouth another question was fired at her. "Are you a midwife?" With that the undertone was gone and the ice became a glacier.  
"I am a midwife." It was measured so that she would have time to think on how best to proceed for Ms. Doe's sake. "I'm so sorry that I've come unannounced. I was told that Ms. Doe was having intense cramping pain from her cycle and I was ordered to give her medicine to treat it." To show this she held up her leather medical case which contained an assortment of medication and instruments. It was a bold lie as cycle pain was not the problem for Ms. Doe it was the lack her monthly cycle that had led her to be assigned to the lady for an examination.

  
The woman mumbled under her breath that she had not heard such complaints from Lucy but before she could carry on with her suspicions Adele's voice carried her back to the present.

  
"I go by Nurse Rochester, if you will. Am I to assume that you own this…property?" To call it a home would be much as it was evident that it had not been that for a long time.

  
"Hmm, yes I do." Her soprano shriek was not meant to be loud but it carried heavily through the halls, Adelle heard furniture move upstairs and feet creeping along floorboards. "You may call me Madame. Very few get to know my name."

  
"Would it by any chance be Lottie?" Adele could not stop herself from saying it fast enough and she held back from smiling as she wished to and kept a serious expression.

  
A natural red colored the Madame's cheeks with indignation at the little chit. "Madame is what I will be called!"

  
"Of course, Madame." Adele made a tiny respectful bow of her head in acquiescence.

  
With a flourish to her turn she started up the stairs, "Come! Nurse Rochester, I'll show you to Lucy's room."

  
The corridor was long and narrow, it led deep into the house where there were about 4 doors on either side of the all and no window. The path was lit by way of gaslight bulbs jutting out from the walls which were similarly held by statues of naked women in various degrees of nudity. The Madam turned towards the second door to the left side of the corridor and knocked thunderously. "Lucy get up child! And open the door, now. The nurse is here for you." There was a scramble heard on the other side and without further ado the door was whisked open so violently that the hair around Adele's face was disturbed by the wind.

  
A girl of no older that 14 or 15 greeted them with mousy brown hair and a lightly freckled face. Her eyes were big for her face and there was worry in them that shouldn't belong on a child's face.  
"M-Madame, I'm sorry, I-I meant to tell you that the nurse was comin'."

  
"We'll discuss this later." The Madame's voice was clipped and it reminded Adele of Bab's tone when she was testing her patience. The Madame's eyes give a meaningful look to Lucy which silenced the girl. The woman looked to Adele tilted her headed toward the room.

  
Adele obliged and with a gentle smile to Ms. Doe she entered into the bedroom. Something that Adele did not expect was for the Madame to follow in after her. Lucy gave a panicked look towards Adele and she knew with no words that the Madame had to leave for there to be any sort of honest discussion between herself and Ms. Doe.

  
Adele turned to the Madame with an endearing but polite smile, "Ah, Miss Doe! I have your Motrin…for the pain. Wouldn't you like it now?" The question was phrased with worry and Adele shook her head at the girl in an affirmative motion. Luckily, Lucy was quick to pick up ques given her line of work.

  
She shook her head avidly, "Oh, I-It's been real tryin' Miss. Could barely get a wink last night." Adele turned to the woman who watched the scene carefully, "Madame, I think it would be best to make some tea for Miss Doe.

  
The Madame opened her mouth with an objection to sprout but Adele was quicker.

  
"The faster it's given then the faster I can leave you and your girls be…" Hey voice trailed off and the Madame cocked a brow with a self-satisfied smile upon her full lips, probably happy at the thought of getting rid of the proper Nurse.

  
"Well of course, I shall." And with that she swept her way off to the kitchen.

  
When that door closed Adele took her eyes from it and looked at Miss Doe who had relaxed her tensed shoulders.

  
Adele walked over to her and patted her shoulder in reassurance the girl slumped even more into the warm touch.

  
"Thanks Miss, I-I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I thought Madame would be out to the shop earlier, like she usually do."

  
The worry came back into the girl's voice and she rubbed her back gently in circles. "No more apologies you have nothing to be sorry for, Miss Doe."

  
The girl gave a small smile "I ain't never been called Miss before."

  
Adele gave a short breathy laugh before leading both herself and the girl to the bed which sat in a corner.

  
"We'll need to be quick before the Madame comes back, I can only have her fetch so many things before she gets tired of me and dismisses me altogether."

  
Lucy gave an affirmative nod of her head.

  
"Now tell me why you wished to see me today. Sister Eleanor said your cycle was late and that you were concerned."

  
Lucy looked down at her clasped hands which sat on her lap. Without protest she got up and shrugged off the thick robe which was covering her body till then.

  
Adele kept a quiet and maintained an encouraging smile when Lucy showed her enlarged belly.

  
"I-I been keeping it quiet. I was telling me self that I was just irregular and that it was just gas that made me swell but then… I felt something move in me yesterday." She looked anywhere but at the nurse who was sat on her bed all pretty and neat.

  
"How long has it been since the first day of your last period."

  
"'Bout early or mid-July. I never kept track of it miss, I'm sorry. It would just happen."

  
Adele touched Lucy's and guided the child back to the bed so that she may sit. She found the girl slightly shaking. "It's alright Miss Doe, not many can even tell as much as you have, you're doing splendidly."

  
"Splendid," she had a small smile as she said it quietly to herself, she looked at Adele, "I ain't never heard so many fine words in one sitting, Miss." She was quite pretty when she smiled as, for at least a moment, there was no trepidation in her eyes.

  
Adele smiled at her patted her hand once more before letting go. "Now Miss Doe let's have a look at that belly and we'll see if there's a heartbeat. Alright?"

  
With an affirmation from Lucy she had the girl keep the robe loose and only pulled at the undergarment she had underneath so she could get to the girl belly. Aside from her obvious nutritional deficit there was nothing else wrong with the girl herself. Her belly was however, smaller that would be expected since she had self-reported feeling the baby move. When Adele had asked her why that may be Miss Doe told her that she wore a corset everyday so that her belly would not show and arouse the Madame's suspicions. Adele kept the grimace off her face by biting the inside of her mouth. She carefully explained to the girl why she must cease wearing tight clothing altogether. Adele kept talking to her while she examined the girl as the Madame had been gone for ten minutes and was sure to be back soon. She learnt that Miss Doe did not have an exact birthday year and that she would say that she had started to consider her birthday was in August; this meaning that she had just turned 14 the month prior.

  
After it was all done, affirmed to the girl that she was carrying and decided to broach heavier topics with the girl.

  
"Do you have any idea as to who the father may be?" she said it as Miss Doe readjusted her undergarments and tied the robe around herself again.

  
"When I was little'er I ran away from home after me mum died and me da' took care of his liquor cabinet more than me…" Her voice was tiny as she avoided what Adele had asked.

  
She needed some answer from the girl as she would in normal circumstances have the father tested along with the mother for venereal disease, however she would not stop Miss Doe from speaking, "How little were you Miss Doe?"

  
"When I was 9 the Madame saw me on the streets in London, I was lookin' for food. Da' had spent his earnings from the docks and I was so hungry and empty that I ran and hitched on a tram from Liverpool to London." She spoke with all the distance of a memory from a past life. There was nothing in her eyes, no regret or sadness, it was the embodiment of the Small Heath way. It was just the way life was. "Madame took me in…" Her voice trailed off but then she looked at Adele with a Mona Lisa smile, "I'd have thought you were too young for a nurse."

  
Adele returned a smile, "I'm older than you, you know." Her original question came back to the edge of her tongue. With a sigh of resignation, she asked it, "Lucy," she used her Christian name and put her hand back on the girls' to assure her, "do you know who the father may be?"

  
Lucy looked at their hands joined and tuned her palm upwards to draw circle in the middle of the nurse's palm. She's been soft like that once and now she felt old and withered. "Most nights I take 5 men in me. On good nights I can get 7 or 8." Her voice cracked on the word good and she looked up at the lit gas light on the night stand so as to smother any tears that may come. "I don't know who the father could be, really." She wanted the nurse to know she wasn't fibbing; she may be a fallen woman but she was not a liar. For the first time since meeting Adele's face held more than serious face or a kind smile. The appalling nature of Lucy's servitude brought on a wide-eyed expression that gave away her innocence in these matters of flesh.

  
"Now who's older than who, Miss." The dry humor felt like sandpaper against Adele's ears.

  
"Can't you come to the clinic, at the convent and stay there?"

  
"And do what, Miss. I sit around for the baby to come then after it does what'll I do?" Her voice started to raise from frustration.

  
"The nuns would help you find work Lucy; we don't just kick women back onto the streets when they've delivered."

  
"It's not respectable but I make my own way. The more men through the doors, the more the Madame gives us to eat. I have a bed to sleep in and clothes on my back." She sat up straighter with pride lining her spine and an affronted look to her young face.

  
"And what happens when the Madame realizes your pregnant or if a… customer comes to talk to her about it? What then, Lucy?"

  
She deflated at that and pride was ripped away from her. "But I can't go… I make more money here than I would as a maid or even a secretary. I couldn't even take care of me-self let alone the babe!" She touched her stomach and felt the bump which scared her with its foreboding growth every day. Her hushed whisper of panic was louder than would be preferred as the Madam could be heard coming up the stairs.

  
It was not the time to have Lucy panic. Adele got on her knees in front the girl and looked at her frightened face. "Lucy, its alright." She cooed in a tone she had used to calm her little brothers whenever they fell and screamed bloody murder. "You've done so well and acted so bravely so far. There is still some time before we need to decide." She wiped a tear with hem of her white sleeve. Send a message to Caregiver house when the Madame is not here and I'll see if I can come myself to check on yourself and the little one." At that the obsidian door knob twisted and the Madame entered once again.

  
"Drink girl" She shoved the chipped China into Lucy's hand once Adele had taken out two tablets, which were in fact vitamins which were not harmful to mother or baby, and Lucy swallowed the tablets and tea. "I'll leave this here take them twice a day, every day without meals for as long as the pain persists-"

  
"Is that all? Our customers will be coming soon, Lucy." The Madame's shrill echoed an interruption to Adele and with a polite nod the Madame led Adele out of the room and out of the 'Bed and Breakfast' altogether.

* * *

As the Shelby woman, Polly, had affirmed the week prior there was indeed a 'next Sunday' for herself and Adele.

  
It was not a fearsome tête-à-tête as their first meeting had gone. Instead, Polly had come early and greeted her at the doors of the church. To Adele's shock Polly had even helped her fix the veil upon her head, before they went into, so it was not lopsided. Once inside Adele and Polly took to lighting the candles together, in the silence of the empty church. Polly's solitary company was comforting in its singularity. There would be many times at garden parties or on the race track with others that loneliness was at its worst, especially after France. Crowds were so much less intimate that small gatherings with familiar company.

  
"You do that often?" Polly low voice pulled her away from the crowds and loneliness.

  
A closed mouth and questioning, "Hmm?" left Adele's throat. She turned her head to Polly who was sitting next to her.

  
"Leave here and go off somewhere else," she explained further with a nod of her head toward the left as though 'somewhere' was around a corner.

  
Adele smiled with an apology on her lips, "I played the piano before I came here. I couldn't sleep last night and it helps." She smiled with a memory pushing through to her, Polly waited patiently, observing as she seemed to have a habit of doing. "I love to play Liszt pieces but my mother always discouraged it, she would say that it put me in a brooding state that wasn't fit to hold a conversation." She gave little laugh at remembering their tiffs of whether she should play Liszt or Bach, as her mother preferred, at those same crowded parties.

  
"Do you play very well?" Polly asked as she was fine with idle chit chat as other members of the congregation started to trickle in.

  
A half scoff half laugh came from Adele, "I would hardly say 'very well' even on my best day. Perhaps 'quite well' is more fitting when I'm in my prime." She joked with Polly like this until the little priest had come and they become hushed together at the sound of his call to prayer.

  
After the final song of the service and everyone was packing up their hymn books, Polly turned to Adele, and took to enquiring, "You've met my boys, I heard." The light voice that Polly used told Adele that she there was to be another Inquisition.

  
"Yes, last Sunday, I met John, Arthur, and I ran into Finn with his friend Isaiah."

  
"You met Thomas too though I suppose his wasn't a proper introduction." When Adele had opened her mouth to politely say that they had not had the pleasure Polly waved her off. "I raised those boys and I know Thomas well enough and how he can be... But regarding Finn, I heard it was more like they ran into you, with their ball." Polly tossed her a little smile to show her pleasure.

  
"Ha! I thought they would keep it to themselves. I told them it was of no consequence to me; they were only playing after all."

  
They slowly walked down the aisle of the church together toward the front gothic doors. "If boys could keep things to themselves then they wouldn't brag when they've turned into men. I let them talk themselves into saying the whole sorry tale of your ruined dress and gloves. By the way-"

  
Polly stopped and Adele did as well, the streets were cold and there was a fine mist in the air.

  
"- now that we're out of church I'll give you this." She handed her a note for 2 pounds. Adele's face crinkled in confusion.

  
"For the cost of your dress," The money was between them and Adele stared for a bit.

  
"Please Polly, it's not necessary. I washed my dress it's fine," this was only half of truth, in actuality the dress had torn a bit in the front and needed mending but she would never make that known. "We'll not make anything of this they were only playing, I'd never charge anyone for something so petty."

  
Polly sighed and put away the notes, "I have a feeling about that you. You'd not charge anyone even if they burned your house down. You're lucky it's Sunday otherwise I'd make you swallow that pride and take the money."

  
"Then I'm lucky that we've only met on Sundays, otherwise I have a feeling about you that I would rarely get my way." Adele's smile at her joke was met with a rueful look from Polly accompanied by three shakes of her head.

  
"Come on it's cold, let's walk on." And with that Polly offered the crook of her arm and they did just that.

  
They carried on in silence until something that had been bothering Adele, since the middle of the week, came to the forefront of her mind.

  
"Polly…" The older woman must have been in her own thoughts as her head snapped up at her name, she cocked a brow to the young girl for her to carry on.

  
"Have you had experience dealing or conversing with… fallen women." She took her time to fraise he questions as she had never had such a discussion before.

  
"Fallen women?" she echoed with a crinkle of confusion between her brows. "You mean whore?"

  
Adele almost shocked on her spit and she regretted bringing it up already, she was surely in for an embarrassing conversation. "I do, but she is very young."

  
"A whore young or old is still just that, Adele." She turned form looking at the girl to looking down the street to the path they were taking. The mist was thick in the air and it became harder to see ahead. "This have to do with your work?"

  
Adele gave a silent nod in affirmation before she realized that Polly's eyes were not on her anymore. "Yes, it does."

  
"So, she's pregnant. You said she's young. How old exactly?"

  
"She doesn't know for sure but she like the month of August so she adopted it as her birth month. She just turned 14, this August past." Adele did not know exactly what she expected but Polly simply carried on walking and listening. There was no gasp or a falter in her step when Adele uttered these sad tidings. It was the way of Small Heath, to think that that was the way life was. It made Adele's mood more pensive. "I asked because I wanted to know whether this was a… common occurrence. I asked Sister Eleanor and she said it gets easier to see but I went through much and I saw much in France. In my beginning years there the Sister had said the same thing and it did not become easier." She tried to be calm but her voice cracked a bit when spoke her last thought. This was the most she had talked about France to Polly and Polly took this as a sign of at least a friendly trust.

  
Polly tried to draw up as much sensitivity as she had in her, the sensitivity that had been smothered by the action of her brother and, later on, the actions of a bitch who was jealous over bed sheets. She used her free hand to pat Adele's hand which was still in the crook of her elbow, "It's not right but it's how it is. Girls younger than her are mothers and it'll continue like that. And there's nothing you or I or even the Sister can do to stop it. The best thing you do for the girl is do your job and nothing more." Even as she said it, she knew that Adele was not a woman to not at least try and do more. It was naïve but there was the budding of respect in her that the girl would surely at least try.

  
"Do you think that I'm ignorant of the world?" The question was said in curiosity and not in a perception of Polly having committed some slight in her response.

  
"I don't think anyone who's seen what you or my boys have seen can be called ignorant. I think you were born fortunate and it's not a bad thing." They separated eventually at Watery Lane, and Polly went her way while Adele went her own.

* * *

On the Monday of that same new week. The post office delivered to Adele her letter from Tomás, its contents now laid on her vanity. The composition of the letter was not important it was the overall content, the question, which weighed her. Can't I visit? It was a simple enough request from himin itself, but impossible all the same. She quickly threw words on a new parchment of paper the composition of the letter in all its stiff formality was not important. It was the response it sent that was. You cannot. There were trivial impediments that she tossed in as to why it would inconvenience him. The travel, the time away from business, where he would reside, and any other thing was pressed in to convey the overall message. While she had never disliked his company, she knew that answer would be pressed and she had asked him for time. Three weeks was not enough time, she would reflect on his proposal another day.

  
Someone knocked on the front door of her flat. She startled and the ink well she used for her dipping pen tipped and the black contents stained the sleeve of her white blouse. She shifted the letter around quickly to that the ink would not ruin the paper. The door was knocked again.

  
"I'll be there in a minute!" She yelled and but the letter on the nightstand for the ink to dry. With all her moving around the ink had accidentally been smeared on the front of her blouse. She had no time to put on new clothes so she instead rushed to the door to greet whoever was there.

  
The surprise of the little face that greeted her softened whatever ire she had.

  
"Finn!" She exclaimed with a smile "How are you?"

  
He smiled boyishly, with his eyes becoming slits from the chubbiness of his cheeks. "I've been good, Miss Adele. What 'appened?" He was looking at the black stain that ran along her blouse.  
"Nothing to be worried about, just a spill of ink."

  
"Oh," he said disinterested as there was nothing exciting about spilling something. He reached into his pocket and pulled a piece of paper along with 2 pounds out. Adelle sighed loudly as she had feeling that she knew what this visit was referring to.

  
"Is that from your Aunt Polly, by chance?"

  
"Yeah, how'd you know? The upward infection of his voice was given with a smile of childlike wonderment as to how Adele had guessed the giver so easily.

  
"Only a feeling, Finn." She said tiredly though it was not yet time for her to try and go to bed. He gave her the money and the note to read  


_**It isn't Sunday anymore.** _

_**-Pol** _

  
That was all it read. Apparently, her luck had ran out with regards to only seeing the Shelbys on a Sunday.

  
"Are you hungry Finn? Come in, I'll change and then we'll have a snack together." The young Shelby said and enthusiastic "Sure," and ran his way through the door way past Miss Adele.

After she had changed into a mulberry purple long skirt with suspenders that nearly reached the floor and a white elbow length blouse with ruffles down the middle, she had given the boy a tuna sandwich and sugar cookies for dessert. Once he was well satisfied and had talked about nothing of great importance, she escorted him down to the bar so that he may go home with a note to Polly which simply said:

  
**_I see my feeling was correct about you, till next time._ **   
**_-Adele_ **

  
She had not realized that the bar downstairs was so busy once again as there were many men who were starting off their week with drink and merriment. Adele wondered if Harry would ever find someone to help him full time and not periodically as Adele sometimes did for this past week.

  
As Adele turned to Harry who was behind the bar he yelled, "Hey, Adele! Can you help out a bit tonight?" As she came closer and nodded her consent he continued. "They just keep floodin' in, there's a game tonight at St. Andrews."

  
She looked up at him questioningly, "A game at the church?" Harry chuckled at her question

  
"No love, it's a football match at the stadium."

  
"I should have known better I suppose." Adele joked to him ruefully

  
They both went back to work, filling drinks, and restocking when needed. The time went on by until a disruption stopped it completely, in the form of four 'gentlemen' that rushed in making a scene about it, whooping and hollering.

  
Arthur sought out her gaze "Oi! Some drinks in the snug, eh Adele?" Arthur yelled from the doorway.

  
"Right away Mr. Shelby."

  
"Hey, you call me Arthur alright. None o' that Mr. Shelby business from you eh?"

  
She chuckled a bit at his every too familiar mannerism, "Alright Arthur."

  
They all went to the snug and finally their voices were muted to the rest of the patrons.

  
A small door to her left opened suddenly and startled the living daylight out of her. She was met face to face with none other than the man who was on the horse, Thomas Shelby. Harry leaned into her as she recuperated, "Whatever it is, is on the house. Alright? And don't question him." She nodded silently at him.

  
When she turned back to the man Harry watched them and caught the look Thomas Shelby was giving Adele. His heart sank. Tommy's gaze looked at her top to bottom then back again before staring intently at her face. She, bless her heart, had only a polite smile. The same she gave to Arthur.

  
Harry saw him look at her with a kind of intensity, which only his blue eyes could accomplish, with a slightly appreciative gleam that the drunkards would give her. They would be surprised upon hearing her soft voice and even more so upon seeing her. Her face was small and heart shaped, with dark round eyes that had speckles of amber littered across them, and plump bow shaped lips that made a dimple in her right cheek whenever she smiled. Her curls at the moment was piled on top of her head, secured with pins, with golden tendrils hanging down and curling around her face. Her countenance was so quiet you would barely notice her presence in the room until she talked to you in her soft posh accent. After that she could easily be the focal point of everyone's interest and conversation.

  
At this moment she was the focal point of interest in Tommy's eyes and Harry cursed himself for not shooing her away the minute the Shelbys walked in. He thought she was relatively safe with Tommy because to everyone's knowledge he hasn't wanted anyone since he came back from France.

  
Thomas finally broke away from looking at Adele to glance at Harry who was behind her. In a minute gesture he tilted his head to the back room and Harry understood that he could no longer protect Adele from the Blinders, as Tommy for the most part was the leader now.

  
He nodded and gave Adele a tight smile before heading off to the back to restock the shelves with more beer.

  
Adele's gaze followed after Harry and upon his closing the back door, the crack of a match was heard in front of her gathering her interest in the man before her eyes.

  
A part of Adele had to admit that he was quite handsome though not the tallest fellow he outmatched her in height at least. His cheek bones were high on his face and slightly rounded and his blue eyes were striking now that she fully saw them up close. The closest thing to compare them to would to ice that covered the artic floor, she wanted to break his gaze but found it quite hard. It was like they had been trapped in some unforeseen web. Her hand automatically went to the chain above her heart that held her ring, it steadied her from the feeling of intimidation that crept along her skin. He looked to where her hands were and saw the glint of gold peak through. His eyes lingered more than what was proper in her eyes. She gathered courage and straightened herself, she cleared her throat to gather his attention, and quickly regretted it upon having his intense gaze back to her eyes once again.

  
"It's nice to meet you properly Mr. Shelby." She stuck out her hand and he looked down at it for a moment before taking his now lit cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and using the other to shake her hand.

  
"Are you a whore I've had?" The question hung in the hair for a single second before Adele snatched her had back from Mr. Shelby. His voice though deep had an upward intonation at the question's end as though he was merely curious about whether it might snow that evening.

  
"Excuse me?" Her voice had a breathless quality as though she had just run around the grass hills that were around Dorset. She looked side-eyed at the other patrons hoping they had not heard the question that sounded like a yell to her ears. They had not noticed either herself nor Mr. Shelby talking. With a tightness in her voice being the only thing to signal her utter displeasure, she said, "You are mistaken, sir. What will you be having, Mr. Shelby?" An apology would be lovely, she thought darkly. She bit the inside of her mouth till it was raw so that she would stay silent.

  
He tsked and took a drag from his cigarette, with a tick of his head to the right he said, "Ah, indeed I am mistaken, Miss Rochester." She watched his hand flick the ashes of the cigarette on the counter below them. He had obviously known who she was, "I'll have a bottle of whiskey."

  
Adele huffed slightly and asked with the previous tightness getting stronger around her throat like a snake was wrapped around it. "Scottish or Irish, sir" her voice more pronounced at the title she deemed unfit for him. His piercing eyes looked back at her and once again went to the ring around a chain that, unbeknownst to her, she had gripped in her fist, her knuckles white with her strain.

  
"Irish."

  
With her teeth gritted and jaw locked she went about and quickly plucked two bottles from off the shelf while on the tips of her toes. He was watching her every move; it was an inquisitive curiosity that he always had. There were rarely new people who up and packed up to move to Small Heath. She was simply an oddity.

  
Like the ring around her neck that made him question her past. Whether she was married and had run away from her husband because he'd hit her? But he dismissed the notion quickly. Not even a damned man like him would raise a hand to her. She looked too fragile and small like even yelling at her would cause her to cry. He dismissed it also because keeping the ring wouldn't make sense. Maybe she stole it... maybe she has it from a dead relative or a dead husband. But then why keep it on her neck and not her finger? Thomas was not a man to settle for having questions float around. He wanted answers but told himself that they didn't matter because in all honesty she didn't matter. She was just a woman that Pol had taken to.

  
His question to her was only asked to see how she would respond and not from interest of buying her if he could for the evening. Or that was what he told himself. Any man with eyes a hundred miles from here could tell she was certainly no whore. No, Miss Rochester suited the title of a lady or a Duchess more than anything else. Her appearance was neat and her mannerisms held a certain air of grace. In every step she took or word she spoke Tommy could tell that she did not come from his side of Birmingham. Even now when he saw that she disliked his mere presence he would bet that is was her upbringing that held her back from being honest about her dislike for him and causing offense. Thomas's lips almost tilted up a bit. He licked his lips and tuned his head to the side instead. No, she certainly didn't belong her. It was best she went back to whatever kingdom she left behind and left him and his in theirs.

  
Adele came back with both bottles in hand and placed them on the ledge beyond her. Thomas took both bottles, placed the money on the counter, and slammed the two doors shut in her face.  
"He just…" she whispered to herself. He slammed the cubby door in my face, she though with indignation and grinded her jaw with agitation. She hoped he would choke on his whiskey.

* * *

  
"You think she'd like my boys?" John slurred drunkenly. "Finn likes her and he's almost the same age as mine at home."

  
It had been a couple hours since Tommy took the drinks from the Garrison's seemingly part time bar maid. He and his brothers along with Charlie were in the snug drinking and playing cards.

  
Arthur was the one to answer him as the others chuckled. "Aw fukin' hell John. You really gonna put 'Miss Adele' through that. I think she's got a hell of a time with Finn and Isaiah, without having your trio o' devils to add to the mix." He supped on his whiskey with a laughed some of it dribble onto his shirt as it dripped off his moustache.

  
"Well I can convince her it'd be worth it." John waggle his brows lecherously. "You heard her laugh at my joke. She thinks I'm funny."

  
"Funny lookin'. And she smiles and laughs at everythin' so don't go feelin' special. She probably felt bad for you. And thought you were a virgin with that baby face you got." The other men and Arthur laughed as he tilted more whiskey into his mouth. Their arguing got a bit heated from there and both of them consuming copious amounts of whiskey was not helping at all.

  
Tommy stood up as he saw the ensuing fight and went out the snug's door. He saw that Miss Rochester had disappeared and left Harry at the bar.

  
He stalked his way to the bar right in front of Harry, all others shooting off from the bar, and easily gaining his attention. While cracking a match and lighting his cigarette Harry waited in suspense over what Tommy's request would be.

  
After inhaling and exhaling the smoke Thomas pointed his finger at Harry and asked, "Your new barmaid not here?"

  
Harry fiddled and ringed the cloth in his hand nervously, "Oh, she's not my barmaid Tommy, just my tenant. She helps out when she sees it's busy, that's all. A real nice girl she is." Harry replied with nerves in his throat. He tried to keep his information simple and short so as not to draw any interest to her.

  
Thomas gave a cold scoff and said, "How kind," disparagingly; he took another inhale. "When'd she come to town?"

  
There was a shakiness to Harry's stance. He knew Tommy had gotten curious about her and hoped against hope it was a passing curiosity. But Harry liked the young girl and hoped that curiosity did not become him taking a fancying to her. But he knew better; he knew Tommy since he was a boy and though younger than Harry, he was quite the ladies' man. He knew the signs of his interest, for not so honorable reasons, in a woman. It always started with questions. But then like many things since France, perhaps that had changed. Harry's voice caught in his through for a moment, "Only 'bout two weeks ago, Mr. Shelby." Harry shook a bit and darted around Tommy's eyes nervously.

  
Tommy could easily tell Harry was nervous and being incredibly tight lipped at the moment. "Tell me what you know about Miss Rochester, Harry." He exhaled smoke from his lips as he said this creating a film around both men.

  
Harry's heart sank even further. "Tommy... I, I... She's a good woman Tommy. I mean you've seen her. She doesn't cause trouble-"

  
"That's right Harry, she hasn't so now you know that there's no reason for you not to tell me about why she's here." In all honesty Tommy really didn't know much about her as Polly refused to talk about anything they would discuss in church. He knew that she couldn't be a danger to him or his family in any way as pol would have told him. However, he always made a point to know everyone in Small Heath just as Pol had taught him when he was younger.

  
For Harry this statement, from Tommy, reassured him that maybe the questions were just a routine check in, to know the going ons of a new person in town. Yet he felt poorly about talking about Adele behind her back, though granted what he knew was very little.

  
"Who is she, Harry. If you don't answer to me you can answer to Arthur."

  
Harry swallowed hollowly in his dry mouth; everyone knew the Arthur was a loose cannon especially compared to Tommy. The bar owner finally relinquished the information he knew, "Dammit" he said under his breath and reluctantly started to speak. "She only told me she came for a nursin' job. And when I told her she shouldn't stay in this place she seemed adamant about staying here… She also told me she served in France as a nurse for a few years." Harry took a deep breath in and out after rushing through the information nervously. Not catching Tommy's momentary slip in his mask as he slightly arched a brow. Thomas could hardly believe that last statement that came from Harry's mouth.

  
"Nothing about her family? Where she's from?"

  
He sighed and answered for fear of physical retaliation from the gang at some later time, "She said raised in Dorset when I talked to her over the phone. She talked about her mother, father, and a few brothers but she never said their names. Please Mr. Shelby that's all I know."

  
Thomas stayed quiet, mulling this over in his mind. He reached in his pocket and put 2 bob on the gold bar top. He took his cigarette in his mouth and mumbled, "Thanks for your troubles Harry, you can go about your business now." And with that Thomas turned and left, the bar man now looking ashamedly at the counter where the money sat accusingly. In the end he still took it and pocketed it as this was the way life had to be in Small Heath.

  
P.B.  
I hope that it was worth the wait. I tried to work with a chapter outline I made and I'm laughing to myself now because out of all of my many my bullet points only 3 three things actually occurred the way I had it written down. I am glad that I got to show some of Adele's work that she deals with. I hope that Tommy was not OOC though I found him easier to write than his brothers and Polly though. That's probably because he's such a strong and silent type. I hope that the introduction of Lucy wasn't too rough as I had trouble just writing it. Please do review! I like feedback very much, only remember to be polite.  
I listened to Franz Liszt's Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro on a loop while I wrote this chapter hence Polly's conversation with Adele.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.B.  
> I hope that it was worth the wait. I tried to work with a chapter outline I made and I’m laughing to myself now because out of all of my many my bullet points only 3 three things actually occurred the way I had it written down. I am glad that I got to show some of Adele’s work that she deals with. I hope that Tommy was not OOC though I found him easier to write than his brothers and Polly though. That’s probably because he’s such a strong and silent type. I hope that the introduction of Lucy wasn’t too rough as I had trouble just writing it. Please do review! I like feedback very much, only remember to be polite.  
> I listened to Franz Liszt’s Étude No. 3, Un Sospiro on a loop while I wrote this chapter hence Polly’s conversation with Adele.


	4. Mediator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was Adele's job in this meeting?

All Italics are thoughts  
I own nothing. This show and the characters in it belong to Steve Knight. The only thing I own is Adele/Lillian and any other OC's that are in it.

  
Chapter 3 - Mediator

  
A cough that was louder than she intended rose up from her chest. She covered her mouth with the inside of her elbow.

  
"Looks like the Small Heath weather doesn't favor you."

  
"I don't think much in Small Heath favors me." She said slightly disgruntled.

  
Polly looked at Adele with a frown but there was some sympathy in her eyes. "They'll get used to you before long… and besides," she turned her body back towards the altar that held the cross, "you shouldn't hang your happiness on the opinion of strangers. Trust me, all you'll have in return is disappointment." Her tone turned solemn and Adele was now the one to turn towards her. Polly spared her only a sidelong glance with her eyes.

  
"Do you speak from experience?" Adele made sure her voice was low as others were in the church waiting for their turn at confession with the priest.

  
Polly's eyes looked down momentarily before shifting back to the cross in front of them, "I speak from being older than you." Her clipped response did not phase Adele.

  
"And wiser too, I'm sure." Adele's sweetly cheeky remark caused the corner of Polly's mouth to tilt upwards and she shook her head slightly.

  
"Don't smart with me, girl. You'll lose." The harshness of her words was cushioned by her obvious amusement.

  
Adele laughed louder than she wanted to but the scolding stares from others was cut short when they saw who she sat next to. She turned herself back to the cross as well. Obviously, I already have, as it is Wednesday, the thought was light as she felt no resentment at being outdone by Polly. After the delivery of Polly's note, Adele knew that she would be entertaining the older woman outside of their previous schedule. It did not bother her at all, as most days after work with the Sister she would either help Harry or do house chores. Her letters from her family and Tomas were what connected her to life outside of Small Heath. While conversing with Polly and Sister Elenore was what kept her in the loop of Small Heath.

  
This current meeting was brought on by Finn, being the sweet messenger that he is, 'secretly' telling her in whispers that his Aunt had matters to discuss with her. She was not perturbed at all with his behavior as it was apparent that he saw this as his 'job' in his family.

  
She was brought back to herself by a fit of coughing. Once it had gone Polly said, "You should have stayed home and told Finn you were sick."

  
"I'm not sick. And in any case, if I had not come, then you would have come to me and I didn't want you to bother yourself. Finn made it seem like you had something serious to discuss."

  
Polly scoffed a half laugh, "Children always make things sound bigger than they are, when they don't know what's happening." There was a brief pause before she continued, "He didn't know his mother before she died… I'm … it's good of you to take time from your day for him. Sometimes, I wonder if she'd lived…" She had said the last part under breath, not meant for anyone to hear, but Adele's saw the words on her lips. She continued on, "Anyway it was good of you." She looked at Adele with neither a smile nor a frown but simply in a matter of fact expression.

  
Adele smiled at the almost thanks and nodded her head in the woman's direction. It took much for Polly to give praise and it took even more for her to almost express doubt. Neither she nor Adele talked in any capacity about serious matters of their past, their friendly-acquaintance was based on the present. Neither wanted to look back and face the past or to look too far into the future, so they sat in companionable silence in God's house.

  
It was Polly who broke the silence after a short while, "I looked into the girl you treated last week."

  
Adele looked at her and saw that Polly was also facing her. Though she treated at least 4 or 5 different patients at any given moment, she knew there was only one she mentioned to Polly.

  
"I never gave you her name." She tried to say it matter of factly but there was a slight question in her voice as she tried to remember the full extent of their conversation.

  
Polly sighed as though it should be obvious to Adele, "It doesn't take much askin' to know where a pretty nurse with a posh accent goes."

  
"You're incorrigible, Ms. Shelby."

  
For a moment she showed a wide smile like the cat who caught the cannery, "I know." Her husky voice went so well with her self-assured attitude, Adele thought briefly.

  
"You shouldn't have looked into my patient I speak to them in confidentiality, Polly." She stressed her words more as the full realization came upon her. "Please tell me it wasn't the Madame you spoke to." At the thought of this and what the Madame might make Lucy suffer; because of her mistake made Adele feel almost as panicked as the time she and Marjorie had given blood to a soldier and had for a moment thought it was the wrong type. What if the Madame kicked Lucy out? What if she didn't and made the girl 'work' more? What if she beat her in a fit of indignation till the girl lost her baby or wort yet she died? Adele's chest was moving at the rate that a humming bird flutters it's wings. Or so she felt at the moment.

  
Polly looked around at the people who were giving glances at them, "Christ's sake!" At catching what she had said Polly rolled her eyes and said over her shoulder. "This girl." She turned to Adele once she had calmed at hearing Polly's scathing swear.

  
"Do I seem like I was born touched in the head?" Polly asked

  
Adele shook her head quietly, but she still scowled at the woman.

  
Polly looked momentarily at the cross as if drawing strength and patience from it, she looked back at Adele and cocked her head to the side, "Of course I didn't ask her anything. The woman has a reputation of getting girls fixed if they start to carry." The disgust was evident in Polly's voice and Adele censure went away and was replaced with a knit of confusion in her brow.

  
"I don't think I've heard that term."

  
"You ever deal with horses before?"

  
A cold trickling of apprehension rolled up Adele's spine. "Well… yes."

  
"Then you have."

  
Adele let out a sharp breath as though someone had kicked her. "No…" She refused to believe it and turned her body away shaking her head while doing it. Her anxiety will surely act up if she couldn't convince Lucy to leave now.

  
Polly felt for the girl and blessed her innocence, it was in short supply in Small Heath. "Once a girl gets with child once the Madame thinks it best to stop the problem from happening again." The matter fact tone was simply how Polly could relay but she placed her hand on Adele's back to rub soothingly for only a moment before she but her hand back on her lap.

  
Adele had come expecting some light conversation and instead she had this to add to the sad saga which seemed to be Lucy's life. She was grateful however, to know fully that she must take care to tread carefully with the Madame around. She expressed this sentiment to Polly who said that there was more to say. Adele braced herself.

  
"She doesn't have anyone, Lucy I mean. Her father drowned a few years back, piss drunk and ranting about the women in his life leavin' him. Serves him right." She said it with bass in her voice, not afraid to voice her judgment on the man even in their sacred place of worship. That was how deeply and lowly, Polly regarded the man.

  
Adele kept her opinion quiet as she was not that brazen. That seemed to be all that Polly had to say.

  
"Thank you for trying to help me help her. You didn't have to."

  
Polly turned to look at the girl's brown eyes that held the light from the candles surrounding them, "Like I said before, you did good." Polly looked away from her, the girl's gratitude too bright for Polly's eyes.

  
Adele smiled and turned herself back toward the front of the church.

  
Polly was never a woman to feel like she owed anyone a kindness and when she saw the opportunity to either level or elevate the field she did so. It was as simple as that.

* * *

"'ave you heard." The unsolicited and conspiratorial whisper came from Adele's left and startled her. It was another day at Caregiver House and a steadier routine was assigned to Adele for the day, in the way of inventory. There was no shortage of maternal patients but no one ever scheduled a visit for Tuesday. It was an awkward day, not quite the middle of the week and not close to the weekend. Monday, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays were the busiest working day for the people of Small Heath so women tended to schedule closer to the weekend as finding someone to mind their other children in their absence was easier. Because of the light workload Adele tended to be lazier at this time. To make matters worst it was, in Adele's opinion, the worst time of day which was early morning. An early morning where all the patients are at work and the nurses have little to do other than care for a handful of overnight patients. All of these factors and the gentle breeze that came from the ceiling fan above Adele's had caused her to be lulled into a light sleep. The pace here was so much different than in France, she'd go 36 hours with no sleep and have dozens of patients in a single night. She felt this slow pace when she went back to Dorset most of all, crashing ocean waves on hard rocks fell softly on her hears, so unlike the artillery shells that went off in distant places when she and Marjorie were trying to sleep in their dorms.

  
Adele staggered for a moment, dazedly, from her leaning position on a circular metal pole that had held her drowsy weight. She held onto the pole tighter to stop any probability of her tripping.

  
"Heavens, Gladys!" A hand was placed over Adele's chest and she felt her heart flutter like a hummingbird's wings. Should I be feeling palpitations? "Don't scare me like that. I'm working!"

  
"Hmm, with your eyes closed?" Was the reply that Adele got with Gladys folding her arms and giving her a look that showed her disbelief given the state she had found Adele in.

  
"I was counting in my head," for the good girl she was meant to be Adele lied quite naturally and rather too often. But she would not spend time in this moment to reflect. She would ponder it later.

  
"Right." With a roll of her eyes the conspiratorial glam came back to her eyes and Adele felt an ache in her slowing heartbeat. There was rarely a time when Adele could look back and not see Margery's face without the same mischievous gleam in her green eyes, a smirk gracing reddened lips and a superior cock of her brow. Whenever she saw that look on her face Adele knew there was some adventure to be had and that they would indulge and have their fill of it.

  
Gladys's voice guided Adele to the present, "You heard the news, yet?"

  
"What news?"

  
"I was sure you'd already know."

  
"Well I don't, so please share."

  
"Maybe I should let the Sister tell you…"

  
"Gladys," Adele said with agitation. She didn't dislike the woman but she didn't like Gladys much either. She had told the woman that she disliked being called 'Del' as a nickname and instead told most other staff that it was fine to call her that. Adele thought Gladys meant it as a joke but just didn't' understand the woman's sense of humor.

  
"Alright you don't have to sound like my mother." She waited a second longer that necessary to speak, which only irritated the still sleepy Adele.

  
"Gladys!"

  
Before she could continue in her rebuke Gladys interrupted her, "While you were 'working' did you notice we were running low on anything?"

  
The question made Adele pause for a moment and she ignored the sarcastic tone when her colleague took and instead looked around the supply room.

  
"We only have a dozen bottles of pure alcohol." She said in a small whisper of disbelief as she stared at the near barren shelf to her right. "When will our supply come in?" She had forgotten entirely about her irritation at Gladys and was now entirely focused on the present situation.

  
No alcohol meant sterilizing with hot water as they did not have the funds to purchase a steam sterilizer. Without alcohol they can't properly clean the clinic be it the patient's rooms or the operating theater. Adele did not know when their supplier at the Garrison would arrive but as long as it was soon then she had not reason to panic.

  
"Mhmm. Mary told Nora, and Nora told Minnie, who told me that we don't 'ave any supplies comin' in."

  
"What?" Adele panicked.

  
Gladys's chest swelled and her back straightened up at having sufficiently made the posh girl speechless. Not that she spoke often but it counted all the same. "Sister Eleanor's in her office last I heard, and guess what else." She allowed sufficient time to pass as Adele's eyed listened in silence.

  
"What else?" she said hesitantly.

  
"Thomas Shelby is comin' here to make a proposition-"

  
No time had passed before Adele raised herself from leaning on the pole and made her way through the store room.

  
"Del where ya off to?" Glady's voice dimmed as Adele closed the door on it.

  
She made her down the narrow corridor with her determined steps echoing and bouncing across the white walls. She was in for a long walk as the supply room was on the western front of the hospital and the Sister's main office was toward the eastern front of Caregiver House. The sister had designed it so that she was closer to most of the patient's rooms so that she could help if there was a complaint. The supply room was chosen to be far away from the patient's rooms for fear of them stealing supplies to sell to witch doctors for profit. These were, at least, the reasons Sister Eleanor had given Adele.

  
"Off somewhere, Del?" Jane, another midwife asked.

  
Adele had made it to the front of the clinic where the waiting room sat desolate of all life except for the older woman with graying black hair behind a wooden counter. A half glass door that led to small conference room was at Jane's back. Adele did not stop walking she only slowed her pace down enough to call out, "I'm meeting with the Sister!"

  
"Adele?"

  
Adele skidded slightly to a stop and made a step to turn as she knew her old Matron's voice as if it were her own.

  
The same Matron poked her head through the door that was half solid British oak and half beveled glass which made it impossible to see individual figures in the room when closed. Her seasoned round face looking concerned at Adele made her anger waiver.

  
Adele gave her a timid smile and bent her head forward slightly in respect, "Hello, Sister."

  
"Child, what's th-"She stopped herself when she saw Jane who sat behind her desk between them looking on in interest. There was little else to do on lazy days such as these that to gossip, Adele couldn't fault her for that.

  
Adele looked back at Sister Eleanor when she brought her hand in a come-hither motion and quietly said, "Come in" while moving aside to let Adele brush past her.

  
The room was windowless but clean as was the case with the rest of the clinic. It had newly painted white walls as well which was also the case for most of the clinic. The only imperfection in the freshly painted walls were cracks that ran along the upper most parts of the high ceiling. Above them there was a fan which Adele wished was on at the moment, for she was quite flustered still and the unnatural warmth in the room made her even more so. Her gaze drifted over to the middle of the room where there was a broad wooden table that held 8 chairs nestled with their back to the lip of the table. To the right side of the small room there was a low cabinet in front of Adele which was noticeably newer than the table as there were no scratches on it and wood still had a sheen of gloss on it. This was likely a donation from the church, as much of the furniture was commissioned by said organization.

  
Adele's quiet inspection of the room was halted when she felt the Sister guide her to a chair which was to the right of the head of the table.

  
"No." Adele held up her hand in supplication before placing said hand on her abdomen, she shook her head toward her Matron. "I'd rather not sit, I'm too restless for that now."

  
"My girl, you look fevered! What's happened to you?"

  
"I'm not worried for myself Matron and you have no reason to either. Not when you've offered to let wolves come into our den!" Now Adele had had to remember to hold herself back and not raise her voice above a whispered shout.

  
"You… you must be fevered! That or a devil has come over you for you to speak in riddles to me. And in that tone!" Sister Eleanor whisper-shouted right back, though the last part was said in a disgruntles huff under her breath.

  
Adele took a deep breath in order to calm herself. She momentarily thought of hopping on a chair to pull the fan's string to turn it on but dismissed the idea, now was the time for arguing.

  
"I am not fevered! And it must be you who is possessed for you to let that Shelby man in here. On business no less!"

  
The full realization of what her pupil was saying made the Sister take a step back in consideration.

  
She sighed mournfully and placed a hand on Adele's arms and rubbed it soothingly. "Oh, Adele. I had not wished for you to know this sordid business…"

  
"Why not? You've told me so many times that were friends. Why must I find out from blasted Gladys that not only is the clinic low on alcohol but that your meeting with a…" Adele looked shiftily to the door as though she would find Jane looking on, "a criminal." Adele knew her arms were folded petulantly in her chest and that though she may not be pouting her voice had the quality of one. She neither cared to correct her voice nor posture, at the moment. _Why is this room so hot?_

  
Now the Sister looked properly guilty and sighed while sinking down towards the chair that rested at the head of the table. "Sit down, Adele." The tiredness in her voice made Adele complicit in the command.

  
"My only hope in this moment, is that by the end of this conversation I'll not have irreparably damaged your good opinion of me."

  
Adele softened and reached her hand across the table towards her Matron's and grasped it tightly she forgot the sweltering heat of the room when she felt the cold wrinkled hand. "Hope is only necessary when there is no faith, have faith that no matter what is said at this table my good opinion will go unchanged."

  
The sister smiled in gratitude and shook their grasped hands slightly. "Do you know how we gathered the funding to remodel this convent into a clinic as well?"  
"No, Sister." Adele spoke plainly as it was the truth.

  
The Sister smiled grimly, "Well, in short, we didn't." After a huff she carried on, "Our good Bishop Robinson granted us a vast sum to make this," she looked around the quaint room with the cracked walls, "a possibility for us."

  
"And… this is good." Though Adele meant it to be a statement there was a lingering questioning tone in the air.

  
Sister Eleanor leveled Adele's gaze with her own, "If you haven't learnt yet then I'm grateful, however you will soon. Nothing in this this city is given without consequence…" The Sister's eyes went to one of the chips in the wood grain of the table and she continued. "When I had spoken to the Bishop about a clinic in Birmingham, I admit I was purposefully… vague."

  
"Uhuh…" Adele said slowly, knew from prior experience that Sister Eleanor 's vagueness often meant a bold-faced lie but she stayed her silent judgement in favor of listening.

  
The sister straightened her shoulders and avoided Adele's eyes in silent pride. Sometimes Adele wondered who the 20-year-old was. "He was… somehow given the impression that we were treating women from um… Edgbaston." She said the last part under murmured breath.

  
"What? I'm sorry?" Adele edges closer to where the Sister was and she spoke louder for Adele to hear clearly.

  
"He was had taken that the clinic was in Edgbaston, Birmingham."

  
Adele swiftly took her hand from the Sister's and put her head in her hands in frustration. "What possessed you-" she was interrupted swiftly by her Matron however they both simply talked over each other.

  
"This whole thing is being blown out of proportion-"

  
"-to lead him to believe that this clinic was in the richest part of Birmingham."

  
"He should have known better than to put money into something without ever seeing it."

  
Adele rubbed her forehead and pushed the hairs stuck to her face from perspiration back, "Oh Eleanor, Eleanor… Why did you do that?" She carried on mournfully.

  
"You behaved so mournfully I thought he had been in the wrong when it was you! Is this why you thought my good opinion would be lost?" Adele had only just realized the last part.

  
"Is it?" The Sister's tone had a hint of anxiety.

  
"Well, no! But I'm so upset with you." Adele's voice went up octaves she'd never achieved before and her throat was dry from thirst from the heat of the room. She got up and started pacing the room, knowing full well it would not help. There's nothing but brick behind these walls, why is it so hot!

  
"Nothing in this city is given without consequence!" Adele spat back out the Sister's words and looked at her anger that was rarely seen in her eyes. "Well you surely taught him that lesson."

  
The sister sighed and nodded to herself, "I did, and now I'm paying for it."

  
"How?"

  
"The Bishop was angered with my vagueness and even angrier that it was Small Heath I chose to set up the clinic. There was a reason as to why I lead him to believe a falsehood I do not sin for pleasure, Adele. He has a reputation of only lending to those he finds worthy of the church's help."

  
"Worthy? In what capacity?" Adele asked the question softly, she started to pace at a slower rate then stopped altogether.

  
The Sister wrung her hands together, and looked away from Adele, "In the capacity that he would find the people of Edgbaston more worthy than the people in Small Heath."

  
Adele scoffed as she understood what the Sister was saying without words, "Their wealth." With a nod of confirmation from the Sister Adele started pacing the floors again and said, "It makes no sense. Why claim that you serve the poor and needy when it is the rich and noble you tend to." The Sister started to wonder whether she was starting to hear a squeak in the floor. "I would never disregard that the women in Edgbaston need care just as the women in Small Heath but they have different access to professionals-"  
"Adele sit your making me giddy just looking at you."

  
Adele complied sat with an ill-bred 'thump' into the chair. "All of our souls will be stripped naked when we die. There will be no wealth or title when we die so why weigh each other's value on those things now?" Adele's head started to pound and it was still so hot.

  
"You may be right my girl," the Sister reached for Adele's hand and squeezed it sympathetically, "but I will tell you the truth and I will be blunt. There are some in the church that only care for Catholic souls who are of polite society whether they are truly worthy of salvation or not. The residents of Small Heath as you know are poor, foul, bad tempered, and drunkards. Given their circumstance they have every reason to be these things; and for those very same reasons we, as good Catholics, are meant to lead them to the straight and narrow. The Bishop however, does not see them as deserving of that grace."

  
"Such lack of charity in a Bishop is saddening." Adele mumbled under her breath. Adele went back to the reason they were even having this discussion, "What does this have to do with our alcohol shipment from Harry?"

  
"The Bishop will allow us to keep the clinic open and not force us to cell it if we find alcohol from a…reputable source."

  
"A bar owner was hardly dignified enough I take it."

  
The sister huffed out a laugh, "No, and just so you know he was as red as a cherry when he first saw the clinic." They shared a light chuckle. "But no, The Garrison was not suitable for him. So, now I'm on a time limit."

  
Adele gave her a questioning look and she carried on.

  
"I have to find a reputable source for our alcohol before he visits us in a week."

  
"And now you look to Thomas Shelby for the supply." Adele now fully understood the situation however a question surfaced. "I was told he dealt with horses, not alcohol." On one passing occasion Polly had mentioned this, Adele did not see it as her concern to inquire further. She continues, "And he can hardly be called respectable, the Bishop would never accept him."

  
"Well, Mr. Shelby is a betting man from what I over hear from the other nurses but he has connections to people in Dudley who know some London boys. And they will be giving us a… replication of Allen & Hanburys isopropyl alcohol-"

  
"You mean counterfeit Allen & Hanburys isopropyl alcohol-," Adele said with a look of half amusement and half resignation.

  
"Oh no! They'll not be giving us any alcohol just the bottles and the label." The Sister shook her head and waved her right hand so fervently it was as though she could dispel Adele's words from the air. "There's no reason for Mr. Fenton to lose money in these hard times."

  
Adele smiled at that, "You'll still have him supply the alcohol then?" She was glad with the thought as beside from her Matron, Polly, and little Finn, Harry was the only other person she had talked with regularly; and who had showed consistent kindness to her.

  
Sister Eleanor smiled comfortingly at her pupil, "I'd fight tooth and nail to keep Harry, he's not perfect but he's a good man, and I have a feeling come our talk with Mr. Shelby we'll find out just how much in short supply that is."

  
Adele chocked on her own spit trying to talk over herself and through a coughing fit she hissed out, "Our?!" Her right hand patted her chest all the while.

  
The Sister patted Adele's back and with so much seriousness and exasperation, as though Adele reached her knee and was not a woman grown, she said, "Yes. Why not?"

  
Once Adele had sufficiently collected her bearings, she straightened her should and with her hand now gripping her necklace she scoffed out, "I refuse."

  
"Why?"

  
Adele blinked dumbly at her Matron, "When I first came to this city, you said that I should take heed and stay away from the three Shelby brothers-"

  
"Well you did not 'heed' well did you. The nurses here talk-," That Adele knew well, "- and they say that you've been at least acquainted with the near lot of them."

  
"I help Harry in his establishment when needed. And yes, I see them and conversate when necessary. I don't have meetings with them and I certainly don't have a business partnership with them." Adele was properly red faced and, in this moment, it was not the heat that made her so but embarrassment at being talked about and the mildly scalding tone of her Matron.

  
The Sister sighed tiredly, "It doesn't matter now," she put her hand on Adele's shoulder and shook it slightly, "I know you Adele, for years now, and I know you have enough common sense to mid yourself lightly with the company you keep. Word can get from here to the other side of England at the blink of an eye." Adele knew that as well. She could get gossip that came from the servants about other households as far North as Manchester. Times were different then, slower, she was sure gossip was easier now than ever to attain.

  
She sighed tiredly at the though of her family hearing word of the company she kept here. That was a thought for another day. "Why is that you want me to attend this meeting? If the nurses know that I've spoken to all of them, and especially with Thomas Shelby, then they'll also know that no cordial meeting can be attained with my presence here."

  
The Sister nodded her head in knowing, "Yes I am aware given the sharpened tongue you have at times that this may be a very poor decision and I had no intension of you being involved. However, I will let it be your decision on whether you will stay in the meeting.

  
"I told you before that I refuse, Sister."

  
"And do you still?"

  
The question was simple but nothing ever was in Adele's mind. Though she knew that her initial response was refusal she could not double down on it, now that exasperation had ceased to cloud her judgement. There was little else she could do but shake her head in refusal and say, "How could I refuse." It was a repeat of the same words that her Matron had said to her in a past too distant to think of now.

  
At that moment a knock sounded on the glass door, neither women were surprised when Jane's head poked through the side. They were however, mildly concerned about nervousness of her plastered smile.

  
"A Mr. Shelby is here for you, Sister."

  
The Matron said her thanks and told the nurse to please let him in and then to carry on working.

  
"Well, I'll ask you another thing then before Mr. Shelby comes." It was said in a rushed whisper as they heard the click of footsteps against the old tile floors on the other side of the door. "Make sure you dull that blade of a tongue you have before you cut your own throat when talking to this man."

  
She sighed with a huff but to ease the tension the older woman had she dutifully said, "Yes Matron, but just so you know I won't be civil until he apologizes to me."

  
Before her Matron could say anything else, Mr. Shelby walked in and she immediately stood up just as her Matron did out of respect for her upbringing.

  
He was as he always seemed to be since Adele had first seen him. His cap was off and in his hand she could, however faintly, still see a glint of metal at the brim. She faintly realized that in the small moments that she had the displeasure of interacting with Mr. Shelby that she had never taken note of his gait. He did not have the bodacious swagger that his brother John had when he walked nor the slightly hunched and aggressive form that tall Arthur took. His was his own, with a callous confidence of knowing that with each step he took waters would part and not a stone would dash itself against his foot to harm him. This Mr. Shelby, in all his three-piece navy-blue suits and shined charcoal shoes, knew nothing conceivable could ever touch him. Her summary of him, given her keen eye, only caused her lack of endearment toward him to deepen.

  
"Mr. Shelby." It was the Sister that said this with a nod of her head in greeting. Adele also made her introduction and bent her head with distant politeness.

  
A nod was what Mr. Shelby gave in return as well as offering his hand to the older nurse, "Sister," and with another tilt he inclined towards the other lady, "Ms. Rochester," he offered her his hand as well and she took it gently. His grip was firm but careful not to hurt her. She distantly wondered if he didn't remember their unfriendly interaction as he seemed so impassive and removed.

  
After their greeting they went off to their seats, with Mr. Shelby at the head of the table. He rested his cap on the table top and took out a pack of cigarettes. "May I smoke?"

  
It was the Sister's voice that said, "In here, yes," before Adele could refuse him. The room was already too warm and smoke in the unventilated room would not help.

  
As he cracked a match and lit the cigarette, Adele arose from her seat and went over to the cabinet at the other side of the room. There she took a ceramic ashtray and placed it in front of Mr. Shelby his eyes took note of her as she moved and this was not overlooked by the Matron. He said no word of thanks and Adele did not expect him to.

  
When she sat back down, he spoke, "I've heard from Harry that you and your clinic are interested in doing business together." He said this as he knocked a bit of ash from the tip of the cigarette that burned red.

  
Adele had no thought for whether she should talk at all but answered all the same. "Have you any notion that we've been getting out medical alcohol from Harry since the clinic opened."  
"I know all business transactions that occur in this city, including that, Ms. Rochester." He spoke it this plainly as it was his truth.

  
"Then… you also know that we haven't been able to continue that business for a time now."

  
To this he also nodded slightly and stated a plain, "Yes," while he took another drag from his cigarette.

  
Adele gave a look towards Eleanor and was prompted to continue. "We've found ourselves in a straits Mr. Shelby as the Bishop who donated a great deal to this clinic is not pleased with our having business with Mr. Fenton."

  
He cleared his throat again and adjusted himself in his seat, his cigarette still between his fingers. "Now," he took a pause to have a slow drag of his cigarette. Adele wondered if he'd ever felt rushed. "I fail to follow where I'm needed in this story, Ms. Rochester, as I have no dealing in alcohol."

  
Oh, damn him, she thought savagely. He had a way of speaking to her as though she were simple. "That's not what we're asking for, Mr. Shelby."

  
"And what would that be, Ms. Rochester." She hated her surname on his lips.

  
She swallowed thickly and caught the look from her Matron that told her to remain calm. "Very well, Mr. Shelby, I'll be blunt. You know people in Dudley that at least know people who can take bottles and but the label of a respected pharmaceutical company on it, do you not?"

  
He seemed faintly amused at her flustered tone, though it was hard to gauge the man on emotion. Explaining a look on Mr. Shelby's face was difficult to account a single descriptive word on, as though too much and too little emotion showed at once. "Ah," he said faintly under his breath, for he now understood what they were asking for. He pointed a finger at the Sister with his cigarette still in his hand and said, "I thought you didn't associate with 'my kind', Sister." The way he said it made it clear that these were words that she had said to Mr. Shelby on an occasion. Adele wanted to scoff as the older woman had warned about her tongue what the same could be said about the Matron.

  
It was the Matron that said, "I'll also be honest, Mr. Shelby, I have no pleasure in seeking your help in this matter. But my nurses cannot sterilize equipment on principal and we can't treat patients with it as well. I'm willing to give you a fair price for this service."

  
He dipped his and to the ashtray and flicked the ash from the tip of his cigarette again, "Honesty is good," he said this taking another drag, "especially" he blew the smoke out and Adele was annoyed when it brushed her face, "when where to do business together." She didn't miss the fact that he looked at her blankly and she returned a raised brow and a look of haughty agitation that would have made Marjorie swell with pride. She clenched his jaw and looked forward to the cabinet across from her when she saw him scoff out a mocking laugh. "And what is your fair price, Ms. Rochester." She didn't look at him and was determined to set her mind to not looking at him or giving any reaction for the duration of this wretched Tuesday.

  
Seeing that Adele's clenched jaw her Matron knew she was in no state to continue talking with the Mr. Shelby. "We have little money to set aside Mr. Shelby, however, if you or a loved one needs medical service provided to them then we will happily oblige."

  
Adele was not prepared for that being the arrangement but she had no problem in it, Finn or Polly were hurt then she would gladly oblige in helping them.

  
Mr. Shelby stared blankly at the Matron and said, "Sister, my family and myself are fine. My men however will be obliged to come for your services."

  
"Men?" Both Adele and Eleanor posed the question at the same time.

  
With the cigarette bobbing in his mouth he spoke, "Yes," taking it out he continued, "If my men should sustain any injury that needs mending, I'd expect them to fixed here." He said this pointing to the tabletop. There was no questioning in him, and that grated on Adele even more, if he said so was so, then it was so.

  
"I'm a business man," he continued, "and it's a fair offer."

  
"A business man" she half laughed half scoffed. There away went her vow of silence, she felt the heat of the room even more so and thoughtlessly pushed off the blonde strands that were sticking to her forehead.

  
"Adele." She clearly heard the warning in her friend's tone but disregarded it.

  
Adele turned her heated gaze towards the man that sat far too relaxed in his chair. His legs were stretched out under the table and crossed at the ankle. She continued, "You, Mr. Shelby, are an amoral mercenary type."

  
"God help me." Sister Eleanor moaned quietly.

  
"There is a standard measure for how a gentleman speaks to a lady."

  
He sighed, "Well, your standards and mine must be measured differently then. And you've already disproved any notion that I'm a gentle man in your eyes, so… now can we carry on with business."  
She had always prided herself on being one of the few women she knew that never got giddy enough to faint. However, the heat, his cool arrogance and her lit temper made her feel breathless. And she absolutely refused to faint especially in the presence of this wretched man.

  
She got up with no care for the loud screech that sounded on the floor, "Please excuse me Sister, I'll let you continue you're talk with Mr. Shelby." When she turned to the man in question, she said a simple, "Sir," and quickly left the disgustingly hot room with burning wrath following her. Later on, Adele would half wonder and half scold herself on whether Sister Eleanor had meant for her role to be the mediator or the instigator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.B.  
> I literally started this chapter the day of my last upload and wrote 3-4 pages, and wrote the rest in little chunks while going to the hospital or during class. Since the COVID-19 pandemic the hospital where I am has been very busy (understatement) and all I've been doing is studying for my now online classes and going to the hospital to work. Soooo, I'm tired. But I'm over the moon that got to finish this (fucking finally) after 2 months of just sitting on it. I really hope it's well written (because I don't like re-reading what I write, it feels embarrassing), and most of all I hope Thomas is still in character and that my Adele is at least a realistic woman of her time. Once again, I'm an oblivious American girl and I had to literally pull up a map of Britain to see what places are close to Birmingham AND THEN look up what they're like now to know if it's realistic to include them. I've been contemplating doing two huge chapters with all of Adele's back story but that will be later on in the story. My girl Adele currently has 'Scarlett O'Hara Syndrome' and refuses to think about anything upsetting and therefore puts it off for another day (me). And just so all of you know I am literally making this story up as I go along for the most part so bear with me when it comes to uploading. I definitely know where I want the story to go I just need to make getting there interesting to read. Anyway, thank you for reading please do review and critique the story. Also, don't forget to check out the Pinterest account I have for this story. Now I'll leave you with a bit of the nonsense I learnt.
> 
> Pointless Fun Facts:
> 
> Fact #1: Allen & Hanburys was an actual pharmaceutical company that was based in London. And yes, I researched it because I've had no life since everything is on lockdown.
> 
> Fact #2: Edgbaston is apparently posh as fuck.
> 
> Fact #3: If you want to go from Dudley to Birmingham it's approximately 10-11 miles away by car and with no traffic you can get there in less than 25 minutes (Why do I remember this? I don't know).


	5. Chapter I - Humble Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of our heroine's journey.

**Chapter I – Humble Beginnings**

Daphne Von Scholz was the daughter of a man who needed no introduction. He was Fredrick Von Scholz, whose only German aspect was in his name. Her father was a novelty among high English society as he was a man of trade who had risen from the lowly position of a clerk. His fame and wealth came from the import and export of tea. His later claim to nobility came in the shape of Daphne’s mother, Catherine Nettle who had enough title to match Fredrick’s substantial wealth. Together they had three daughters that lived into adulthood, a baby boy named Michael who lived for 26 days until he died of a fever that never broke, and 4 still-born daughters. To the immense grievance of Fredrick his wife hemorrhaged upon the birth of her last daughter, Daphne, and died soon after in 1880.

The moment Daphne’s life truly began however, was on the day she met a poor Irish boy with no name other than him saying “Rochester.” They had met as children as he was an apprentice of her father, and she later came to realize he was the closest thing to a son her father had ever had. The orphan boy was named George and was taken in by her father. She had found it strange for an Irish boy to be named George, as their lot never showed much love or loyalty to the king. Her father had once told her that it was for this reason that he had given him the name, as a show of loyalty to anyone that questioned it.

She did not like George at first and refused his given name, she referred to him as ‘the orphan boy’ in every setting they were in and felt no shame. At least, that was until her father called her un-Christian for her behavior and said her mother would be ashamed. She called him George after that but refused him every other kindness.

She couldn't say the exact moment nor explain it to anyone else but her affection for the orphan boy George grew. Eventually, they had short yet polite conversations when he was not working and she took time to get away from her nurse maids and sister's constant watch. When he had been in their care for neigh on 5 years and he being 18 and she being was 15 was when once again tragedy surrounded her family. Her father passed on suddenly and left her sisters as orphans just as George was once an orphan. She found it funny that God made them equals in that regard, after all the times she had tormented him on that matter.

At this point she was unsure what would become of them as they could not inherit and no one would want to marry a penniless wife with 2 equally penniless sisters to care for. This, however, was not a worry for long as at the reading of her father’s will he had entrusted his business, lands, and title to “His faithful son, George.” This being what the lawyer stated was written upon the deed of entitlement. Daphne’s sisters, Margaret and Prudence, were in a state of shock upon hearing this. They swore that he was more likely to throw them to the wolves once they were out of mourning. What they did not account for was that George was a dearly good man and Daphne knew this. He did not though them out onto the streets and he did not leave them penniless, instead, he had kept them in unaltered luxury and to Daphne’s infinite shock, he had asked her eldest sister Prudence a chance in courting Daphne. Prudence of course did not allow it but relinquished eventually and said that he may once she’s come out for her first season at the appropriate age.

To her further shock he accepted but, to her delight he showed favor to her in sweet and simple ways. When she was still in mourning, he gave her a framed portrait of her mother and father that was in book frame. She never had interest in her father’s work and so she had no reason to go into his office and so she never knew he possessed this picture frame. There were of course paintings around the house, mostly in her father’s old study and bedroom, but she had never seen her face in a photograph. Looking at the yellowed and sepia picture of a woman she loved but never knew made Daphne feel over come with an indecent amount of emotion. After this, George he had taken her laced gloved hand and held it while she wept quietly over the picture of her mother. While he stayed silent during her outburst, she felt disappointed in herself for weeping so openly in front of a man that wasn’t her family. When she had said as much, he had told her it would be his honor and privilege for her to regard him as her family.

To her further embarrassment she felt the need to unabashedly wrap her arms around his neck in gratitude. However, she refrained and simply told him it would bring her great happiness to give him that regard. After this moment he kept up visits at an unhurried rate as it would be indecent and hurt her reputation for her to seek companionship with a man while she was still in her mourning attire. After some months of this, her black mourning garbs soon had some color in it as courtesy of George, who was now referred to as Mr. Rochester by everyone except herself. She called him by his highest title, this being ‘My Lord,’ and though he acted quite annoyed at her not saying his first name she knew that in actuality, he was amused in her calling him that. In any case, as she was slowly coming out of mourning and as custom dictated, she was allowed one article of clothing that was not black. In celebration of this her George had bought and gifted her the most charming wide brimmed summer hat she had ever known. He told let her and her sister gawk at it before promising her that they would go on a picnic in the park, with a chaperone of course, and she can dazzle the other ladies with her fashionable flair. She felt most acutely that his tone was slightly mocking, as he always teased her love of fashion, but she promised to get back at him at another point in time when she wasn’t so awe struck.

She was now Lady Daphne Rochester. They married eventually in 1895 after a year of mourning and a year of courtship, as was proper. Though not too proper as neither of her sisters had yet married and she was the youngest. To her dizzying elation they were happy and he continued to be both a gentleman and her ‘Lord’ after their marriage. Soon their happiness would take a tumult after the announcement of her pregnancy.

Her first was named Penelope, as was decided by herself and favored by her Lord husband, in memory of her father’s love of Grecian mythology. It was three months after they had married. Babs had called it a blessing to have gotten with child on her wedding night, and it had felt like that as well at the time. Her baby had not been in her womb a full three months before she felt a movement. Then what started as a movement became a cramp and when she had looked at her day dress there was blood pooling in her lap. It was then that a ripping sort of pain came into her consciousness and she cried for her oldest maid, Babs, and her husband. That same night she gave birth to her still born and buried her the next day in that same August.

She had been reassured by her husband that there would be others and that the pain would leave once they had a den of children running around. She wanted to call him a liar, but stopped herself because even in her grief she knew he had lost their baby too. After this Daphne had news once again that she was with child. She had never felt such inconceivable fear before, the doctor gave no reason for her loss of the first one, so why wouldn’t she lose this one again. She barely left her room let alone the house, every time she thought of leaving a panic came over because she blamed herself. She blamed the fact that she took walks when she had Penelope, and that she kept up with socializing with her friends and running the household. In her mind, if she stayed as still as possible then there was no reason for her to lose the baby. Her baby boy, Fred, came at 28 weeks old and lived for a few hours, laying in Daphne’s arms, before his lungs gave out.

For the first time in her life, Daphne didn’t care for appearances and she wept openly in front of her husband, her sisters, doctor, midwives, and maids. The doctor had said that sometimes there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. It was at that point that Daphne let herself sink into despair, she could hear and feel nothing, not her husbands voice, the doctors freezing hands, nor Bab’s worried gaze. Two weeks later on, everyone left her, except Fred as he refused to move from the chair he placed near the head of her bed as she refused him entry to lay on her bed. She did not do it out of spite, but she had done something wrong that killed her baby, she was sure, and she didn’t deserve his comfort. Babs had come in to stock the fireplace and in the dim crackling of the fire she only her maid’s old skirt brush along the floor. She turned her head and looked at her husband’s unshaven face and dark hair which was red in the fire’s light. Her hand reaches out and she felt for his hand and the sleeve of his cuffs, feeling the stiffness and surety of it made her feel less alone. She swiftly removed her hand and let it rest on her empty belly, she deserved no respite. The doctor had said that her sadness will end but she didn’t feel as though there was an end to this depth of despair. There was no bottom to this well, it just went further down.

“I had one duty and I couldn’t even do that,” she’s never heard her own voice so soft and hollow, not even when father had died.

Babs heard her though, and craned her neck and then body away from the fire. ‘Mi’ Lady?”

“A woman has two duties in life, you told me that. To marry well and to give her husband an heir. I only had to give him one child, and I couldn’t even do that,” her voice was no louder than before. And this was true as Babs had raised her and her sisters after her mother had died.

Babs knew not what to say as her charge had not spoken since the they buried Fred. Though she had dealt with her mother Catherine, there was never such deep despair as her new Mistress seemed to have.

When there was no response from her maid, she laid beck down on her pillows, “I’m no use to anyone,” she said into the night while looking at her husband’s-tired face.

* * *

**Hornsey Rise, London**

The day of the miracle was on a dewy summer morning in late June of 1897. It was something the Lady Rochester would never forget, as it saved her from dying of grief. Her greatest pain and her greatest happiness came within the same month. She was walking absently in the London streets, there was no description she could give of anything, until the point that her mind tricked her into hearing a baby’s cry. At least she had though her mind had tricked her, it would not have surprised herself, her doctor, or even her husband; as she had not been herself since her sorrow. Or more aptly sorrows.

Barbara Walsh walked beside her charge, towards a destination only her lady knew. She had been taking with walking almost every afternoon to different locations, as per her doctor’s recommendation. Sometimes it was to the park and others were simply to window shop for bows and ribbons at storefronts to make dresses. The well paved side walk was getting hard on Bab’s her feet and she desperately wanted to turn around and make her way back to the townhouse.

Her Mistress must have sensed her discomfort from the tell-tale wrinkle on her forehead because she asked, “Has it been a while since our walk began Babs?”

Babs nodded but to comfort her Mistress she said, “All is well, love we can carry on if you like.”

Daphne was trying to make a conscious effort to be pleasant. The more pleasant she was, the less worry she would cause for her family. “Oh Babs, I’m sorry for being so inconsiderate let’s turn- What is that?”

Nan turned her head to the opposite side of the street to look at what alarmed her charge and raised her brow in shocked surprise at seeing a bassinette on the doorstep of the building. A sign out front that read in detailed cursive “Alexandra Orphanage for Infants.” Before Nan could put two and two together her Mistress had already started making her way across the street. “Oh, Father God, help us.” She said with resignation as she resolutely followed Daphne. Their light shoes pitter pattered across the pavement, sounding like bombs dropping in the emptiness of the early morning summer air. When both women reached the steps of the orphanage, they heard a loud gurgling come from the bassinette and both of them felt their spirit leave them when they realized what it was.

Lady Rochester was the first to speak and move. “Oh, Mother Mary!” she exclaimed in horror as she lifted her skirts above her ankles and leaped up the steps to the young babe that had taken to crying her lungs out. Whether in hunger or in fright neither could tell but without a thought Daphne took the babe that was wrapped in a thin blanket in her arms and cooed at the small child. While she bounced the babe in her arms and fretted over how cold she felt, Babs took to looking searchingly up and down the streets as though the babe’s caretaker would pop out from a bushel and claim the child.

“She’s a girl.” Her Mistress voiced sounded out and it brought Babs back to their predicament. Babs felt even more dread at hearing the warm tone in her Mistress’s voice. Babs knew that both her and the Master had lost their children and that he was worried with the state of his wife’s well-being. Even with all of Babs comfort, that all women were different and that everything happened in God’s time she could still see the sadness it caused Daphne. Whenever they saw a woman walking down the street with a baby carriage in tow or a friend, like her Jane, that gets to present to her husband their newborn daughter Marjorie; well, it left her charge with a sad and hollow look in her eyes. In secret Daphne had told Babs her fear that she may be barren. Which Babs told her couldn’t be true as she been with child but Daphne couldn’t hear reason. With a sigh Babs said what she now knew her mistress would hate to hear.

“We should tell the Owner of this establishment, mi’ Lady.”

As Babs well knew would happen a frown creased Daphne’s pretty face to show her displeasure. With a sigh Babs said, “Whoever came here must have known that she would have a good up bringing here-”

“But, with what future? Babs, you know what happens to waifs when they’re old and no one wants them. She’ll be made to go into a half-way house or the work house.” Daphne’s voice got more erratic and she held the babe closer to her chest.

Babs came close and held Daphne’s should to calm her and bring her willful head back to earth, “Daphne,” she rarely said her name so Daphne listened, “The babe belongs to someone else. And that person probably doesn’t or couldn’t care for her so they put her here. She’ll be cared for and the rest is of no concern to us.”

Daphne resolutely said “No.”

Babs let go of arm and rolled her eyes, “Well what exactly do you propose, mi’ Lady. Bring her to the house? Present her to Mr. Rochester?” Daphne looked down at the Babe’s curling golden hair and twirled it in a finger. Her action and silence were answer enough for Babs.

“Oh Daphne, no. You must come to your senses, my love. She isn’t yours!”

“Maybe not.” Daphne’s voice came quiet and soft as it whisked through the air to Bab’s ears. “But I feel something Babs. Like a kindred spirit in her. I can’t desert her like this look at how we found her.” She motioned with her eyes to the solid door of the orphanage. “Someone abandoned her. Left her here to an uncertain life with nothing but the clothes on her back and a dirty rag for a blanket. Would you have me leave her to that future or… she could be with us Babs. I… I could be a mother to her, you know me. I would never run out of love for her.”

Babs tried one last time “What you feel, my love, is sadness and desperation. I can tell you right now that your time will come, you own baby will come.”

A mocking scoff was spat out of Daphne and with viciousness she turned fully to Babs and way from the baby, “Oh, will it? You’re so sure?” Daphne didn’t know why but though her tone was hissing her voice cracked and she felt tears behind her eyes. “It’s been two years. Two! And I have nothing to show, no legacy for him. I’m worse than my mother, I couldn’t even give him a one daughter. He’ll hate me.” Her voice broke on the last note and she started to truly sob on the steps of the orphan house.

Babs was appalled, “Master Rochester love you never would he-” she was cut off.

“Eventually he’ll regret me.” Her voice was soft again and she stemmed her tears, now she looked down at the baby, Daphne felt a sliver of joy when she noticed that she had stopped crying and was looking up at her. She also noticed that the rags were actually a swaddling blanket and their was embroidery that spelled L.S. with lilies and vines surrounding it. “He’ll regret me and then I’ll die…”

“Please don’t say that…” It had been what she and her Master had been fearing. Her Master, she was afraid, would not last long without his wife.

Babs sighed and though she had only awoken a short while ago she felt tired once again. “What of the Master, your husband?”

Daphne’s eyes dashed forward toward her maid as she was quite sure that was an acquiescence, “I’ll speak with him.”

Now it was Babs turn scoff as her charge, “At the same time that you present her to him? No. We can give her to the caretakers here for today” Daphne made to object but Babs silences her, “and when Mr. Rochester returns then we can tell him of the babe.”

Daphne determinedly shook her fine golden head, “No, we take her now.”

“But what if her mother or father come for her because of a change in heart or circumstance. Would you deny them the chance to make amends to her?” Babs crinkled eyes beseeched her to see the folly in hasty actions which can lead to unintentional cruelty.

“...No, I wouldn’t.” She most definitely would if Babs was not there.

Babs made to take the babe from Daphne’s arms and said, “Then let them take her today and tomorrow if no one arises and Mr. Rochester agrees then… whatever God’s will is, let it be done.”

* * *

**Dorset, England**

**May 1901**

The years went on as young Adelaide grew into a young little lady of the household surrounded by the love of her mother, father, and Old Babs.

She loved spending time with her mother whom she admired greatly and thought of her as the greatest woman to ever grace House Rochester, though also the first to do so, with her presence. Ever since she remembered she wanted to be just like her and emulate her delicate grace and sweet temperament. Her father was also dear to her and her mother always joked to him that he’s ruined Adele for any man to come and compete for her love.

In Adele’s mind her father hung the moon and stars for her to go to bed and her mother had the birds outside in the gardens sing to say the sun had to arise.

All was peaceful as she and her mother were in the drawing room. Adele was seated in front of the grand piano in her lily-white knee height dress with frills on the bottom of said dress and frills above the tops of her delicate white socks. A black bow was tied above her head. Her little legs swung above the ground as she played along to her mother’s tempo. Her mother stood with a conducting stick to her pointing to the notes before her as Adelaide played with all the fluidity and temperament of a cat running across distorted keys. This did not deter Daphne as her patience inmost matters were abundant and she took time to be patient with Adelaide. There would be much testing of her temper once her pregnancy became full term, everything was fine at the moment but Daphne did not want to think about that. Their adoption of Adele years ago made her days full of happiness and she refused to think about the worst. The large picture window to their right next to the grand old fireplace held a sight that made both smile. Her father’s carriage came to the front of the house and she saw him step out onto the brick paved herringbone walkway.

Adele’s father had been away on some business trip Adele was too young to listen and understand it, she only knew her father sounded respectable and that his position demanded the respect of his wife and child. Adele knew he had her respect as on the few times she really tried to listen to him about his job she got the faint notion that they were well off more than others because stocks were up and shares were down, for the most part.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Well either way Adele knew they weren’t poor because she had many pretty dolls and their house wasn’t funny looking like the homes portrayed in her picture books. With their black slated rooves falling onto broken pavement and windows cracked and broken as well. To Adele’s knowledge none of their windows were broken at the moment and the slate on their roof was a light gray not black so she was rather sure that rule didn’t apply to them. So, since she was very sure that that meant they weren’t poor she was very careful not to play inside so none of the windows were broken. She also had an aversion to black state rooves that her mother just didn’t understand no matter how much Adele tried to explain her fear of them becoming poor from having black and broken shingles on their roof.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a small figure being helped out of the carriage behind him. Alice could see it was a little person like her with hair even more golden than hers, but whomever it was, differed from Alice in a large way. It was a boy! Alongside her father then came two other people that Alice deduced must be the boy’s mummy and daddy. The lady that followed her son was very slight in looks and could easily be lost in a crowd, her frame was quite petite, and her stature was not much either. She moved with an eagerness about her as though the carriage was overbearing to be in. The last person to exit the carriage made Alice realize why the woman may have been uncomfortable. A large man that must have been half giant had burst though the opening in a way that Alice could have sworn rocked the carriage and made the coach hold onto his hat for fear of it toppling off. The giant was not someone that you could pass over easily, his ebony hair was slicked back and looked too shiny in the near setting sun. He was so very large and muscled that Alice could see the faintness of blue lines coming from his thick neck that seemed to strain from the collar of his coat. She looked up at her mother questioningly only to see the same confused expression upon her mother’s face.

“Come Adele, let’s greet your father at the door.” Adele noticed there was no mention of a guest or a visitor so she quietly deduced that her mother was caught off guard as well. She hopped off the pillow, used to help her reach the piano keys, situated on the wooden chair beneath it. Both mother and daughter walked in graceful strides beside each other. They both stood side by side with each other as the tall front door was swung open by the door man.

Though Adele knew her mother would be displeased and it was entirely unladylike she ran to her father as soon as she saw his shadow enter the door way.

“Adele!” she heard her mother exclaim in apparent displeasure.

She was entirely ignored by her daughter’s excitement having fought off her sensibilities. “Daddy!” she ran into his arms and jumped into his arms. Her little legs could not wrap around his waist so she contented herself with dangling off his neck. She heard her father’s deep baritone voice vibrate through his chest as he laughed at his daughter’s antics and his wife’s scowling expression at him. She no doubt thought his laugh meant his approval at his daughter’s actions, and she would be right.

He loved how openly loving Adele was and it made him a bit sad thinking that one day she may not greet him with such open affection once she got older and would take after her mother in her strict sensibilities. Now don’t be mistaken he loved his wife in every capacity but her belief in the strict roles of women often held her back from being openly affectionate quite often. “Oh, come now, dear. Let her be my little girl a bit longer… for me.” The scowl marring her lovely face disappeared and in one of those rare moments of hers, her shoulders relaxed a bit and she smiled with love at her husband. The dimple that only showed when she truly smiled warmed his heart like nothing else other than their Adelaide could. She went over to the side Adele did not occupy and kissed him gently upon a corner of his mouth, before nuzzling the side of his neck with her nose and kissing the side of his jaw softly.

“I’ve missed you, my Lord.” She said quietly in his ear, a bit conspiratorially.

Mr. Rochester had a sudden intake of breath and was ready to reply that he should go on business trips more often if she would always greet him in such a way. He never got to imply this to his wife as the sound of a snicker was sounded behind him and he did not have to turn to realize that it was his guest, Mr. Beaumont.

“Daddy? Are we entertaining guests tonight?” Alice saw mother pull back from embracing father immediately. Mrs. Rochester arched an eyebrow at her husband and he took a deep breath getting ready to reply.

“Ah, yes, darling.” At that Alice promptly detached her small self from her father and joined mummy at her side with a frown wrinkling her upturned nose. Mr. Rochester knew why Alice was upset as he had told her that since they rarely got to entertain many people, that were not neighbors, he would always tell her and Daphne beforehand so they could make it a grand occasion. And to top it off they both hated surprises. He continues his story however as he knew sympathy always softened his little darling up. “Their carriage had broken down and they were left stranded on the road.”

“The problem was that damned wheel being to flimsy. I never had something like that happen with American carriages in my life.”

The stiffness that took over in his wife’s posture told him that sympathy would only go so far if the guest would continue being rather loud and foul mouthed as the Marquis.

“Well, it’s certainly lovely to meet you all. Lord husband? Introduce us please.” Whenever she referred to him as ‘Lord husband” and not ‘my Lord,’ he knew that he’s be in for cold silence later. Her sharp tone made it well known to him that she was holding onto her temper for dear life and possibly to stop herself from taking his.

“Alright,” he said promptly gesturing to Mr. Beaumont. “This, my darlings, is the Marquis of Aunis Marshall Beaumont.” Mr. Rochester’s wife and daughter curtsied prettily, letting the candle lights above them compliment their white dresses. Mr. Beaumont bowed deeply and his slick and shiny hair temporarily blind Alice as it was above the same chandelier’s candlelight.

“This is Marchioness of Aunis Maria Beaumont and their son Tomás Beaumont.” He gestured to them politely and the introductions were concluded once they politely greeted each other. 

“I took the liberty of inviting them to stay until the morning so they can take our carriage to their home, my dear, were all to be neighbors now.”

* * *

Now looking back on those early days Adele wondered if in the end her father had truly helped the Beaumonts’ or had been the facilitator of their, particularly Tomás’s struggles. But then she would remember that she was the cause of all his heartache. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.B.  
> So, I have a test this week and instead I’m writing. Yay procrastination! I was not going to upload this because I have a second chapter being written, which would be the ACTUAL chapter 4 that I was going to finish but instead I got frustrated with not having a solid idea for Adele’s back story so I wrote a piece of it and now I’m satisfied. To explain how spontaneous this was I don’t even have a Pinterest board set up for this because I just wrote from 4:30 PM till now and it’s… 9:30 PM for me. So… I’m going to study now. BTW I'm not even gonna lie, while writing about Tomás's father I couldn't get the picture of Gaston from Beauty and the Beast out of my head so that where his buff-ness comes from lol.  
> Please review and critique the story!!! And thanks to everyone that’s followed it through!

**Author's Note:**

> P.B.-  
> I've never written anything other than school essays, let alone fanfiction. However, I do really love this series and I've re-watched it so many times that I may as well write something. I can't promise regular updated as school will start again but I will finish this story. I most definitely want to take this story into Season 2 because that's my favorite season. I would also like to mention that while Grace is going to be in this story, playing her part, Tommy will not be in a love triangle with her and my OC. I'd also like to say that I am a naïve American that has never even been to England and other than this show I have not delved into English culture so do excuse me if I misrepresent anything. There will be racism and sexism that is period-typical, but let's be honest if you've watched the show I'm hoping you have some kind of armor to not be terribly offended very easily as this is a work of fiction just like the show.  
> I hope to be historically accurate with this show and I am currently doing a lot of research about this time period. Thanks for Reading!  
> I have a Pinterest board set up for this story and I highly recommend you see it as the chapters progress, the link is:
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/LaRouge009900/


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